Summer Snowstorms
by FantasyFoSho
Summary: With the gates finally open, Elsa and Anna get to experience the world that they had missed during all those years of isolation. But just as their sisterly bond begins to flourish, Elsa's struggle to find the balance between performing her duties as queen and pursuing her desires as an individual threatens to tear the two apart once again.
1. Chapter 1

It was a perfect night to be outside.

The white moon hovered high, its light caught and cast by rippling waters. That light, in turn, found its way into the eyes of a girl basking in the wonder of a world not often seen. Still as a statue, she watched for a moment before coming to life. Then she walked, and when she felt the moment to be right again, she stopped and watched some more. In the sights of this cool summer night, Elsa discovered how easily she could dream and learned that dreaming felt very good.

She looked up, peering through an opening in the canopy. The moon. Silvery and pale, it cast a different kind of light than the sun. A wondrous light, life-giving in a very different way. Elsa Agdarsdotter felt beautiful basking in its glow. The stars that held its company twinkled like the lights in her eyes.

Outside the walls of her castle, away from all of her servants and guards and all the symbols of her rank that lent her the right to rule, she should not feel as powerful as she did. And yet it was here where she felt strongest. In the wildness of the forest where none of her humanly powers held sway, she felt alive.

Walking with bare feet treading the dew covered grass, she made for the place that wasn't. That which could only be found by one who did not search for it. Its name was solace, and she'd been searching for it for days, not knowing then the approach that she tried now. If she could discover it, perhaps she might also discover peace, and what a thing that might be to share. Her sister would be the first to know, of course. But others too might benefit greatly from the knowledge. After all, everyone deserved a little bit of peace.

And then she stopped.

She closed her eyes and breathed. This was it. This was the place. She could feel it when she stretched out her arms. The unfamiliar feeling of warmth that she longed for. Here she finally, truly, was alone. Perhaps that was what she needed all along, for the feeling was great indeed. Such so that she likened it to happiness. To look at the trees and the clouds, to spot the dark birds in the night sky flitting in between the tiny spades of moonlight and starlight, to feel the earth beneath her feet, and to breathe in the delicious fragrances of nature and to just enjoy them without comment from herself or anyone else. That was happiness.

The feeling seemed to flee from her, though. And so she stepped further into the forest, further than she had ever been before, until finally she could go no more. Happiness was often shortlived, and as the forest gave way to the sea, Elsa anguished in the fleeting feeling that came with the realization that it had slipped away.

Behind her, the forest sighed, expelling a sweeping breeze that slithered between majestic trunks and rolled over flora and fauna then past her fluttering cloak before dancing over the sea. Her slim figure quivered as she resisted the pull that would plunge her deep into the water. Such a thing would bring a damper to her night, so she sat herself upon a moss covered stone by the embankment. For the next few moments she watched the small brief waves lapping against her feet and her barely legible reflection carried upon them while her mind began to stray towards the very things she wished to get away from. Like Anna's smile, and how that smile was like the sun to her.

She could not think of it without thinking about how she'd ripped it away. She shut her eyes, trying to drown out the memories, but found it akin to raising her hands to ward against an oncoming wave. The water still flowed no matter how hard she tried.

Her father appeared on the watery surface then, as he often did since The Thaw. His mouth moved, though no sound came out. _Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show_, he seemed to say. Elsa stared at him for a long quiet moment. She reached out her hand to touch him, but felt only the coolness of the sea. She shook her leg and the apparition faded. She couldn't go back to that. Not anymore. The person that she was had almost lost the one person in the world who loved her. It was only when she'd been on the brink that she realized the meaning of the words said to her long ago. _Fear will be your enemy_.

Her memories of that time were faint, save for those words, which screamed at her.

Her fear.

She'd become so afraid of causing pain that she did not realize that she had been doing that already. By locking herself away, she had done Anna more harm than her magic ever could. She could just imagine the sounds of her sister's heart breaking each time she closed that door. At the time she had been deaf to the sound, or no, not deaf, but she refused to hear it, and she felt all the worse for having done so.

If only she realized the harm she was doing. If only she had opened that door just once and made that one snowman that would have changed everything ... How could she justify being worthy of rule when she couldn't even do right by her own sister?

She pulled her legs out of the water, hugging them close to her chest. Her gown and cloak were soaked from the knee down where they had been buffeted by the waves. The wet fabrics pulled at her knees.

She could do away with the weight, if she wanted, with a simple flick and flourish of her arm. Tonight though, in solitude under the stars, she allowed herself to feel burdened. It felt right. Deserved. Everyone had been quick to forgive her, but Elsa was reluctant to consider herself forgiven. There was too much for her to atone for.

She looked out over the fjord and the colours that shone off its surface. _ It's like a painting_, she thought, of the gleaming composition with its ripply canvas and sinuous abstractions. Elsa moved her bare foot through it, as if she were stirring paint with a brush. The water was surprisingly warm, but not quite so warm as the warmth radiated by the night and the many things that contributed to it.

She could hear the flutter of a bird's wings and smell the feathers that fell as it took to the sky. Hear the massaging rhythm of seawater against stone. Feel the hairs on her arms rise with the howls of wolves in the depths of the forest at her back. A quick glance and she caught a rabbit twitching its nose, soundless, yet essential somehow.

Realization came upon her then, about the world and the delicate balance on which it was hung. Like a masterpiece mounted unsteadily upon a wall, all it took was one push to send it crashing to the ground.

Elsa shuddered. Not cold, but afraid.

It was here where she wanted to be every moment of her life, enjoying the world that she had missed through all those wasted years. Here she felt free, unbound from the shackles of responsibility and hidden away from the carefully whispered rumors and prying eyes. But if she could get away somehow, if by some miracle she found herself set free, would a place such as this accept her?

"Elsa?" she heard her sister's voice ring out in the distance.

"I'm here, Anna!" she called.

Elsa stood, shaking her dress free of the excess droplets of water, and breathed deeply. The air smelled of the sweetness of summer, of flowers and grass and the sea. She slid her feet along the stone on which she had been sitting, guiding them to her slippers. If she were born a commoner instead of a princess, would this be where she lived? In a solitary house along the shore, where it was quiet, and no one, not even the animals paid her mind?

She figured it would not be so simple as that as Anna burst through the thicket, panting. Elsa raised her right hand and wiggled her fingers once she had been seen. The princess smiled back at her, her own palm shooting up in reply. Elsa turned once again to face the fjord.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, gazing longingly at the waters. The fireflies hovered over them, seeming to move in unison. The castle was visible in the peripheral, along with the trail of ice she'd used to cross from the islet.

"I think you're beautiful-er." Anna said, taking her hand.

Elsa felt a surge of warmth rush to her heart. It was the same kind of surge that allowed her to reverse the effects of her magic. She shuddered, thinking of how she had turned this living and vibrant world into one devoid of warmth. How many lives had she taken that she wasn't aware of? She looked about the area, at the animals that she could see. A roe deer grazed in a clearing nearby. It looked at her briefly, but otherwise paid her no mind. Elsa wondered if that was because it didn't know what she had done, or if it simply did not care. She squeezed her sister's hand.

"You know," Anna started, after a time, "if you keep disappearing into the night like this, you really will give Samuel a heart attack."

The old guard captain was always making quips about his health, most of them nonsensical. Samuel was in fine shape. Besides his prosthetic leg, he possessed a body that looked as if it belonged to someone half his age, with muscles taut and toned.

"I'll be sure to apologize to him." said Elsa, swinging her feet. The water dragged her clothes down, making walking feel awkward. "Is he upset?"

"I hope not."

"You hope not?"

"He _might_ not know you're gone." Anna said, with a grimace. "Not yet, anyways."

"How did you manage that?"

"I called in a favor from the Royal Enforcer." her sister replied, dropping her voice.

"What did Olaf do?" Elsa asked. "And you know Sam hates when you call him that, right?"

"I told him to put on a show." Anna winced. "There also may have been a little tiny part where I wished him luck by, um…" she cupped her elbow with her free hand, like she did whenever she was nervous, "telling him to break a leg."

Elsa found herself laughing, despite her mood. "Anna!" she giggled, knowing the snowman would take the idiom literally. They passed by a pair rabbits who jumped into the air at the sound.

"I wasn't thinking!" Anna said in a hushed voice, as the animals scurried away.

They walked up to the village gates and Anna called for the gatekeeper to open them. A slit in the adjacent wall beyond the gate's border slid open and a heavily bearded man peered out, torch in hand for illumination.

"Who goes there?" he called loudly, alerting the sentries nearby that someone had come to the village.

"Just the queen and the princess of Arendelle returning from a lovely night stroll." Anna replied, chipper.

The slit closed and they could hear murmuring as words passed between the gatekeeper and another man who stood inside. They were probably wondering how the princess and the queen could be returning to the village when no one had seen or heard them go out. The gate opened moments later.

"My apologies Queen Elsa and Princess Anna," the gatekeeper said, he and his partner bowing as the two sisters strode into the village "for not recognizing you immediately."

"Well, it _is_ quite dark. " Anna said, pulling Elsa along. She met their eyes. They bowed their heads again immediately, but she caught a glimmer of something. Suspicion?

"Should I bring something back for Samuel?" Elsa asked, once the two were out of earshot. "It would be my fault after all if something did happen to his leg."

"Oh, I'm sure he's fine." Anna replied, with a flick of her wrist. "Olaf can't hurt a fly."

They walked along a cobblestone street that skirted the outermost border of the village, passing dark buildings whose inhabitants had long since fallen asleep. It had been a standing decree by her father that the main walkways of the village be lit at all times, the pole mounted lanterns giving the otherwise dull street a warm orange glow.

"So have you figured out what you're going to say to the Council, tomorrow?" Anna asked, giving the hand she held a gentle swing.

Elsa sighed. The Council of Arendelle was a committee formed by her father before he and her mother had sailed off for the wedding. They were in charge of managing the needs of the kingdom until the King returned. These included negotiating deals with trade partners, setting up military patrols, distribution of food and goods, management of the treasury, and expansion of the kingdom. When she had came of age, all of the duties were to fall upon her shoulders, but as an act of goodwill, the council agreed to handle them until she had become better acclimated to her new standing. Two weeks had gone by and they were to meet the following day to discuss the standings of both parties.

"Not yet." Elsa decided to say. "There are still I few things I need to think about before I make a decision." She had been considering delegating the majority of the duties to those who were already familiar with them, which meant returning power to the council. She didn't know much about their members, having spoken to each only briefly throughout the past five years, but they had done well, and the villagers would appreciate the familiarity.

The pair turned the corner, onto another cobblestone street, this time lined with houses of many colours. The village of Arendelle was not ordered into districts. It was far too small for that. The more wealthy of its inhabitants did tend to coalesce towards the marketplace at the center and the port beyond that. Pink was common among the populace, as was lime green, yellow, and teal, the latter being used almost exclusively for panels on the roof. Streetlamps lined this area as well, discharging their orange glow on both sides of the thoroughfare. Rarely, they passed lone members of the populace undertaking a variety of tasks, from sweeping to preemptively setting up stalls for the morning market.

"I never realized how nice Arendelle was during the night." Anna whispered, as they made their way deeper into the village. They passed by a pair of the night watch stationed beneath the lamplight, conversing lightly. On each sentry's head was a cap bearing the yellow crocus on green, colours of the kingdom, with jacket and breeches to match.

"Your Majesty!" They stood to attention, awaiting a command. "Your Highness!"

"At ease, gentlemen." said Elsa, with a hint of a smile. The words felt awkward coming out of her mouth. "My sister and I are just out for a night stroll, but you are doing a fine job."

"Yes." Elsa replied to her sister's earlier remark whilst they continued further down the road. "I have trouble staying away sometimes."

Anna flashed her a smile. "You sure do." she remarked. This was not Elsa's first night outing, and most surely would not be her last. Samuel, the captain of her guard, did not approve of her late night escapades and often tried to dissuade her from embarking on them on her own. At times, he even offered to accompany her himself, but Elsa adamantly refused. It was not the same. Alone or with Anna was when she felt most at peace.

The port was just ahead, with ships of varying sizes bobbing up and down in the water. Many of these belonged to the Royal Fleet, armed with broadside cannons and a number of nautical installations that Elsa did not yet know or understand. Others were owned by foreign merchants and couriers who had brought wares and news from afar on ships such as the lumbering argosies and three masted fluyts and the long-faring galleons.

Beyond the port stood the castle, tall and proud, its central spire challenging the moon and stars for dominance of the sky. The pair switched directions, walking parallel to the coastline and towards the open castle gates. Anna peered over the quay, where waves crashed upon its foundations, white where it struck and black beyond, beneath the sky.

"I think we stay up a little too late, sis." Anna yawned, leading Elsa to do so as well.

"We can't help it." Elsa guessed. "There's just so much to-"

"See?" Anna finished. Elsa smiled at her as they made eye contact, nodding her head.

"And so much-"

"To do."

Elsa laughed. "Are you going to keep doing that?" she wondered aloud.

"I'm going to try." said Anna, wryly. "It's harder than it looks, you know."

"I didn't know, actually."

Anna shot her a look. _What's this?_ her whimsical expression seemed to say. _Has my sister discovered a sense of humor?_

_Yes I have_, Elsa gestured back, wiggling her eyebrows. Anna burst out laughing as they passed under the gates, causing one of the guards to jump.

"What?" Elsa asked. "Was that too unqueenly of me?"

"Is that even a word?"

"If it isn't, I demand that it be so, by royal authority."

The courtyard opened up before them. A wide space, covered almost entirely by the dark shadows cast by the walls. The moonlight was enough for Elsa to see the outlines of the trees, almost completely oval, with a dark stem. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of their flowers. Bird cherry, planted two generations before her.

They walked upon a paved path, accompanied by hedges, trimmed in the shapes of small animals; rabbits, and foxes, and bear cubs. Ahead was the pool, where the moon was reflected clearly on its surface. The path curved around it, and as they passed, Anna threw a coin into its waters. Elsa wondered what she was wishing for.

Hand in hand, the rest of their journey was completed in silence, until finally they approached the doors of the keep, which swung open before they arrived. Before them, his shadowy outline illuminated from behind by the interior lighting, stood a grumpy man with a snowman for a leg.

"Hi, Samuel!" Anna waved, cheerily.

"Samuel," Olaf said, tapping the pegleg with his finger when he didn't respond immediately. "she's saying hi!"

"You wanna tell this creature to get off me?"

"Olaf, please let go of his leg." Elsa said, walking up the steps and into the castle foyer. The interior of the castle wasn't noticeably different temperature wise, but the lightning was greatly improved from the blackness of the outdoors. Suits of armor and ornamental plants lined the walls, while a great chandelier hung from the ceiling.

The snowman hopped off the guardsman's leg, his personal flurry following suit. Samuel shook the wooden appendage, grumbling to himself about some kind of back pain he was experiencing before facing the two sisters. "Your Highness." he said, bowing his head. He straightened his back, either despite the pain or due to the evident lack of it, and at over six feet tall, he easily towered over them. With his wide frame, scarred face, grizzled grey hair, and rippling muscles, he was truly a sight to be feared.

"I apologize for my absence." Elsa said, only half-heartedly.

Samuel sighed. "You must be careful, ma'am." He said. His uniform was without creases as usual, with its gold strings hanging down the shoulders. Dark blue buttons ran down its center and he carried no weapons for his arms were weapons by themselves. "Dangerous folk hide among the shadows. Even in Arendelle."

Elsa nodded. She'd been given this lecture already and was not keen on hearing it again.

Samuel stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. He had given her many a harangue over the course of the past few weeks, none of them successful. "Ah, well." he finally managed. "It is late and you have a meeting with the council at noon."

"I know." Elsa looked to her sister, who had been leaning against a suit of armor. Her eyes were closed and she snored softly, a thin trail of saliva leading out of her mouth. Olaf snored at her feet. "Anna?"

The princess jumped, startled, and the suit of armor came crashing to the ground. "Bed time?" she asked, glancing around as if she were unsure of where she was.

"If you can make it to yours." Elsa smiled at her, fondly, and the two departed.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn broke in Arendelle with the chiming of bells. _Ding! Dong! Ding! _Back and forth they rang, repetitions of three, until the villagers were sufficiently roused. It had always been that way, thought Anna, blinking and wiping away the crusts that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. The rest of her body, her feet and legs, were still unresponsive. Lazy heads, those. They protested as she sat up, and fought against her as she stood. Anna, unrelenting, forced the stubborn appendages to co-operate. She had let them win enough mornings. This morning was important. Because of... something?

She fingered her chin. Shrugged. Turned to her closet to select her choice of clothes for the day. She would figure that missing thing out eventually. Right then, she would hum and sing and dance the morning jitters away. And then she would wake up Elsa for her meeting. And maybe even get some breakfast. She was still undecided on the order. Her stomach rumbled, requesting that the latter come sooner along the list of things she wanted to do.

Dress in hand, Anna flung open the windows, breathing in the fresh morning air. The bells chimed again.

* * *

><p>Squawking and flapping their wings in a flurry of dark feathers, a company of sparrows departed in haste from the forest. The village of Arendelle was larger than most in both size and population. An argument could be made that it was no longer a village but a town or even a city, though its residents would argue that it is in fact a village for no other reason than that they wished for it to remain that way. This was a place of tradition, a place of familiarity and routine.<p>

Farthest away from the center, in houses of uneven make with leaky roofs and rickety floorboards, few had need for awakening. Here the voice of morning fell to ears no longer there. Not detached, but simply gone for the day, due to return in time for the evening bells, sister to the ones that currently chimed. Here were the homes of the early slumberers and the early risers with booths and stalls to assemble and wares to transport. Carried upon carts or wagons-pulled manually, or by horse if the owner was fortunate enough to own one. The bustle of the morning market often meant that time was of the essence.

Travel closer to the market square to find the spirit of Arendelle manifested in colours aplenty, on houses and on clothes. Never could a moment be dull merely by sight, for sight was this land's greatest strength, truth its greatest virtue, and beauty the most marvelous of its many truths. Here were the bulk of the dwelling places in the village, which displayed that colourfulness that it had become known for in their local region of the world; with teal rooftops, bricks of yellow, lime green, pink, or a combination of them all. No rickety floorboards or leaky roofs, courtesy of proper maintenance and care and money that, while not in abundance, could be spared for such things.

Beyond the market square and towards the castle gates lay the large villas with their long and pointed and slanting roofs of deep and dark shades. Their tall iron fences snaked devilishly a modest distance around expertly designed homes, points to the sky, and enclosing marble sentries and frivolous statuettes and newly transplanted trees, with paths that meandered past each detail for visiting eyes to see. Mailboxes stood at the front, empty most of the time, but often waiting eagerly for new letters to be brought to their mouths; letters of profits and deficits and letters of invitation, to royal functions which their owners longed greatly to attend, and more. The last invitations were received before a certain coronation two dozen dawn bells prior, and the last invitations before that were years past.

With Elsa as the new head of state, none knew what to expect, and truthfully, neither did each of the Council of Six. It was Monday morning and the eve of their appointment with the queen.

* * *

><p>"Does anyone know her whereabouts?" asked Councilman Cato in his silvery voice. He stared through dark eyes intensified by the steep angularity of his brows, at five companions seated around a circular table upon chairs of royal violet. The table was made of dark oak, cut long ago, and upon it lay a stack of letters, some opened, many not.<p>

"She was seen last night with her sister," Councilwoman Amira drawled, her chin resting against her palm, "so I imagine her whereabouts and condition are in her bed, soundly asleep." Charged with the security of the kingdom, such information was hers to know. Valentin breathed, scratching away at the sketch of the village he had drawn on the blank parchment set before him. He paused momentarily to glance at his wife, frowning at her condition.

If he were to think hard on it, he could not even say when he last saw Amira sleep. The deep bags beneath her eyes suggested that she did not sleep at all, but every morning he woke, he spied the imprint her body had made on the bed beside him. She of course, would be gone at that time, at the table working or doing some other task for the kingdom in some other place. For a man who found pride in his ability to keep track of many things at once, it both baffled and embarrassed him that the one thing that eluded him most was his own spouse. But then he supposed they wouldn't be married if they both weren't equally good in the things that they did.

"Another of her strolls, I suppose." Valentin's lips curled in a smile, though his eyes bespoke a different emotion.

Cato frowned. "She goes on an awful lot of those." he said. "I fear for her safety."

"As do we all, but what can we do?" replied Councilwoman Syl.

_What could they do?_ The queen and the council did not have the kind of relationship he hoped they would. It was amiable, but neither party knew much about the other. That Elsa was like her mother, quiet and seemingly allergic to socialization, did little to speed progress. Still, they'd taken steps, and Elsa had shown to be quite studious, a good trait for any monarch to have.

"Little and less with each passing day." answered Valentin.

Beside him, Amira sighed. "The girl has turned disappearing into the night into an artform."

"But on the bright side," Valentin added with a grin, "at least she's up and about! I thought she'd never come out of her shell, to be honest. There is peace to be found wandering the night. I know this because when I was a boy-"

A knock sounded at the door, and all heads turned towards it. "Courier." came the sentry's voice, from beyond. Valentin coughed, then voiced his approval and the door opened moments later. A young man dressed in white and blue livery with a black trim entered the room. "Another message from Oriarnis?" asked Councilman Stig, feigning surprise. The courier walked forward and presented an envelope marked with the royal seal of the Southern Kingdom; a dove and five stars.

Stig took the envelope, dismissed the courier, and once the door was shut, tore the seal and set aside the address-bearing letter sheet. It had been folded over multiple sheets of paper, covered from end to end in small, almost indiscernible script.

Valentin whistled. "Something tells me that isn't an apology."

The few letters the kingdom had received from the Southern Isles in the weeks since the Thaw had been from King Godfrey himself, requesting absolution for the crimes of his son, who he ensured had been rightfully punished according to the nature of his crime. Valentin could not believe that to be true. In Arendelle, treason was punishable by death. He could only assume that a crime so severe would result in a similar punishment and news of the execution of a nation's own prince would have travelled quickly, and they had heard no such words upon the wind.

Even so, the loss of trade between Arendelle and Oriarnis had been a large, albeit necessary, blow for both parties, so he could understand the king's desire to repair their relations.

Councilman Stig said nothing at first, his eyes darting from side to side as he read the contents of the letter. His mouth formed quick words that Valentin could not make out. "Not an apology." Stig whispered. He continued to read. Then suddenly, he threw the papers onto the table, his palm coming down on the wood with a _thud! _"Foolishness! The extent of this man's lies!"

Councilwoman Mila, quiet the entire time, stood abruptly. "Councilman Stig!" she said, in a breathy voice. "Mind your temper!"

Stig looked at her, at a loss for words, and then ripped his gaze away, venting his frustration with a string of obscenities loosed under his breath.

Mila reached over and plucked the scattered sheets with her long fingers. She arranged them in a neat pile before adjusting her spectacles. She brushed a strand of auburn hair back over her ear and began to read aloud.

When she had finished, they were silent, save for Stig, who continued his mutterings. "An invasion…" said Valentin, leaning back in his chair. He had thrown the word around in his head, contemplating its meaning. It's implications. There hadn't been a foreign invasion in centuries.

"The _threat_ of an invasion." Amira corrected him. She had finally lifted herself off her palm. An improvement, but having stayed in her previous position as long as she had left distinct reddish marks on her pale skin that would take some time to resolve themselves.

"I wouldn't trust the buffoon." scoffed Stig from the end of the room. He was staring at the large painting hung on the wall furthest from the door, but Valentin doubted that the man was admiring the artistry. It was an old painting of a swan upon a lake, there since before the council was established.

"Godfrey may be..." Cato paused, choosing his words carefully. "unorthodox in how he manages his kingdom, but I would not call him a buffoon. And a lie of this magnitude is unbecoming, how foolish would he look if this was untrue?"

"So you believe him?"

'"I do, barely."

"As do I." said Syl.

Valentin nodded. He wanted to analyze the letter further, and get information from more sources, but for the time being… "I as well." he said. Beside him, Amira shrugged, mumbling a word.

Mila regarded them all with quiet impassivity. "Which of us will tell the queen?" she asked, her voice a wisp.

"I'll do it." Valentin said. He wanted to confirm the information first, before he brought it before the queen. The 'threat' could have been something nefarious perceived from something harmless. The letter listed few specifics. Ships supposedly seen on the horizon. Foreigners asking questions on the street. Uncanny movements of battalions in the land across the sea. Rumors, more like, but he wanted to be sure.

"Very well, then." said Mila, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She sat down.

"Okay!" Valentin clapped his hands, bucking his hips hips and pushing against the floor, moving the chair closer to the edge of the table. He reached out and plucked an unopened letter from the pile. "While we wait, let's see if we can get some more work done. Woo-hoo!" The rest of the council groaned in reply.

* * *

><p>Elsa had slept through the dawn bells, had slept through Sam's knocks, and had even slept through the sing-song melody of Anna's morning anthem. With a fluttering of her eyelashes, she finally woke an hour before noon, to the sound of a bird chirping at her open window. She stretched her arms, and then her legs.<p>

The heavy covering slid along her slender figure as she wriggled herself free of its caress, stopping briefly at her waist when the tip of her head reached the headboard, and then descended down to her exposed thighs when she moved to sit. Her nightgown, slender as it was, had been drawn up in the restlessness of her sleep and was now ruffled and creased along the entirety of its length.

Her room was bright, courtesy of the wide windows carved into the walls with the curtains drawn. Three bowls of soup rested upon a tray on her overly large table; spoon by its side, on a napkin. There was a note there, too, scribbled in the messy letters of her sister's handwriting. _Dear sleepy head,_ the words read, _I didn't know which soup you liked best, so I got you all of them! Love, Anna._

Elsa plucked the note from her desk, passing her thumb across her sister's name, and smiled, before laying it down once again. She tried each soup in turn. The first two were creamy seafood, salmon and then cod, and the third was mutton and vegetables. She found that she didn't have much of a preference for any of the three. She also found that she was extremely hungry, having skipped dinner the previous day, and devoured them all.

With a _clank_, Elsa left the spoon in one of the bowls and made her way to her wardrobe. She regarded it for a moment, contemplating whether or not she should go out in her usual garb: powder blue gown and willowy cloak. She pulled the wardrobe open, revealing blues and violets and black, mostly deep and dark. There were a few lighter hues mixed in, bought recently.

She chose a violet jacket, which ended at her waist, with the fabric folded back at the cuff. The jacket was black at the cuff and collar, and trimmed along the center. She left it unbuttoned, over the dark bodice of her dress, which was also violet. Long and elegant, it flowed down to her feet. Crystal-like patterns decorated the dress above the hemline.

She noticed her gloves, stowed in a box in the lowest shelf of the wardrobe, and looked at her hands, remembering. These were different gloves than the ones she had worn that day, but also the same. She didn't need them anymore, and would not wear them. Even so she kept them, for reasons she could not explain.

Elsa stepped back, closing the wardrobe, and studied herself in the dark-framed mirror upon the varnished timber walls of her room. She smiled, pleased, and then worked on her hair, which she would wear in a single plait, running down her back, along with her crown. It took longer than she expected it to, her fingers clumsy, but in the end, she could not say that she was disappointed with the results. Boots were all that she needed, and she found a pair with ease. Black, with a golden buckle. They could hardly be seen through the skirt of her dress, but she liked that they were comfortable, and slipped her feet into them.

It was half past noon by the time she arrived at the doors of the council room. "They're waiting inside, Your Majesty." said the posted sentry, upon her inquiry. Elsa nodded, thanking the man, who looked as if he were holding his breath. Beyond the doors, Elsa could hear the sounds of an argument, with multiple participants. The guard pulled the door open, and Elsa stepped inside. The argument, which had been about the distribution of grain to the villages beyond Arendelle, died as six heads turned to face her. Within a fraction of a second, they were standing, performing bows and curtsies and proclaiming their greetings, and within a minute, all were seated at the table, with Elsa at its head.

After a brief period of silence, Elsa realized that they were waiting for her to speak. "I've given this matter much thought." she began, her voice wavering slightly. To be speaking in the midst of such dignified members of the kingdom made her nervous, queen or not. These were leaders of the people, and now she had to lead them.

She continued, this time with strength. "Moving forward, I believe it would be for the greater good of the kingdom if the Council remained an integral part of the government, but with a small change." she noted a couple sighs of relief from her small audience, but could only pinpoint the source of one, from the councilman named Stig.

"What change, Your Majesty?" asked the man called Valentin, when she did not elaborate. She recognized his face from her childhood, but had not spoken to him since. He was clean shaven and handsome, despite his older age. His wife, seated beside him, had been gazing at her since she entered. She seemed sullen, and Elsa wondered why.

"I would like to hear every proposal." Elsa said. "You may handle the motions they describe, but only after I have approved them."

Valentin nodded, Stig appeared disturbed, but the rest were impassive, and she could not glean any insight into their thoughts. Another period of silence ensued.

"Um." said Valentin, casting an awkward glance around the table. "Should we begin, then? We've got a few proposals prepared. Stig?"

The bearded man procured a sheet of paper, with words written in red ink. Elsa nodded, but found herself wishing she hadn't, as he began to read aloud. Try as she may, she was unable to keep up with the majority of the details, becoming lost whenever terms were used that she did not know. She tilted her head on occasion, pretending as if she understood, while cursing herself for not being better prepared. She had the books, all the information to be of use, and had drilled them into her mind. Or so she had thought.

It did not help that Stig's reading voice was dull and monotone, a stark contrast to the voice he used in regular conversation, which was loud, demanding to be paid full attention to. Her mind began to wander, first towards thoughts of her incompetence at a ruler, then to thoughts about how the lack of formal tutelage may have contributed to that incompetence, and then to her sister and her whereabouts. Anna was likely out in the market, looking for more trinkets to bring home; she'd accumulated quite the collection in the span of just a couple weeks. Elsa wanted to be out there with her, not inside this cramped room. The only relief, she realized, was that the chairs were surprisingly comfy, and she made a note to herself to have one purchased for her own use.

"Queen Elsa?" asked Valentin.

Elsa snapped out of her stupor and met six anxious pairs of eyes. "I'm sorry." she said. "I've been a little distracted."

"We can continue another day, if you like." Amira offered. The dark haired woman's eyes seemed softer than they had been when Elsa first entered the room. Compassionate, even understanding. A lot like her mother's, Elsa found herself realizing.

"No, that's alright." Elsa replied. As much as she would have liked to postpone the meeting once more, she figured she might as well get it over with.


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm gonna be late, I'm gonna be late! Oh boy, I'm gonna be _so _late!_

The words rang in Anna's head over and over. They wouldn't change anything, of course. Fact was, she'd been late since an hour ago.

She walked at a brisk pace, her pigtails bouncing behind her. She would run, but that seemed neither productive or wise given the dilemma she found herself in. Around her were all manners of people, and a great many of them to boot. They boxed her in, stunted her progress, slowed her down. Not purposely, of course, but it frustrated her all the same; a frustration she had been well-practiced in hiding, as few noticed and greeted her and she greeted them in return.

Most however, were lost in what they needed to do that day. Anna, hidden beneath her wide-brimmed hat, understood. She had things to do as well. On this day, that _thing_—for she had finally remembered what the _thing_ was—meant getting to a merchant's shop to purchase certain other things before anyone else could or before the merchant closed his doors for the day.

His name was Gorvik, a man formerly from Olinath-across-the-sea, now a resident inside the village and the particular _thing _that he specialized in was trinkets. A trinket for every part of the world he had visited, and he had visited many parts of the world, she'd been told. Stories upon stories were in his possession to tell. And the collection he kept... A picture may tell a thousand words, but Anna believed that a trinket told tens of thousands and thousands more. If she could only _see_ his collection, one glance, was all it took to set herself upon a journey within her mind. A journey to civilizations imagined, and worlds brought to life.

How much of what she'd been told was hearsay, Anna could not know, but she hoped for the best. This was a man known by the villagers, and even known by traders just passing by, and she trusted them. For the past month he had been away, trading in distant lands, but undoubtedly expanding his collection all the while. _Wait for Gorvik_, the people said. _He'll be back soon. Always arrived during midsummer. He will have much to show you,_ they insisted. She was gleeful back then, just listening, and was even more gleeful now. She'd been notified a week ago that his ship was on its way home, due to have arrived today. She'd sent word prior, arranging a meeting. Part of her wished she hadn't just so that there would be nothing for her to be late for. She sighed, pulled down the front of her hat, and set her mind back towards navigating Arendelle's streets.

The street was wide and long, with sidewalks cordoned off to the sides. She supposed that made sense, given the name. She walked along one of the walkways, quickly. Some members of the crowd parted before her, recognizing a woman in a rush. Others parted because she was a princess and you just _had_ to part for a princess—It would be rude otherwise. Anna wouldn't have thought it rude, but others would have. Silly.

Most didn't budge, though, so Anna had to walk around them.

Her feet hurt tremendously and her knapsack clinked as the metals within clashed against each other. She winced whenever she heard a particularly loud jingle, wishing she had remembered to put them away the last time she returned from the market. Thankfully, the marketplace was just up ahead, brightly lit by the noonday sun.

The street ended and she stopped walking, the market square open before her. It was a large space, bigger even than the castle courtyard, with shops making up the buildings that shaped it and stalls filling a smaller inner square, with gaps between them to allow passage to the center of the square, a mostly open space, discounting the ice sculptures that decorated it. Parallel lines of crystalline trees with spiraling branches created a path—while animals with glistening and unmelting skin bowed to those who walked by, to circular plumes of frozen water, fountain at the heart. There many people stared, wonderment shining in their eyes, at the impossibility of Elsa's ice and its nature defying properties.

The square was crowded, moreso than the streets, and nearly filled to bursting. It was almost never like this. Was there an event being held that she was unaware about? A fair or something of that sort? Unlikely. She made it her business to know about those sorts of things. Had made it her business for awhile now, even since back when the outdoors were still forbidden to her. She wondered if they had all come to see Elsa, and see for themselves her magic—her powers, now widely renowned.

There were rumors, of course. Rumors of events in distant lands being set in motion by the freeze and thaw of two weeks ago. Rumors of pilgrimages, whatever those were, and rumors of holy or unholy crusades, whatever those were. And that was just the beginning. It had only been two weeks, but since then the number of visitors to Arendelle had grown. Sometimes those who came didn't leave, taking up residence in one of the newly built homes or in a village nearby. She felt sorry for those burdened with having to keep track of it all, then realized such duties would fall upon her sister, or herself should she be asked or should she volunteer.

She continued on, pulling the front of her hat lower. She didn't mind the attention, but she had someplace to be and a distraction simply would not do.

The scent of almonds filled the air undoubtedly from the bakery she had just walked past, where the line of people extended beyond its doors. Too long, otherwise she would have joined it. She looked through the glass, where the baker was handing out the cakes en masse, coins piling up on his counter. Nut cakes were popular in the village, but that local popularity seemed to be extending beyond the gates, to places that Anna didn't know but was curious about. Her curiosity peaked, watching them in line, conversing with the people around. People from lands she'd only read about or imagined, with different coloured skin and different ways of speaking. Worldwide recognition seemed to be yet another perk of having a Queen with magical world-changing abilities.

Besides nut cakes, there were many reasons to come here, to this hub of the village. Some came for the pay, some came for the goods, some simply came to be lost. To wander in the midst of all who walked by, themselves wanderers sometimes. It was a beautiful place to wander in, especially now that it contained evidences of Elsa's touch. With as many people as were there, however, it was also now quite easy to get lost, even if you didn't want to. That was where Anna found herself after a time, lost first in her thoughts, and then lost in the crowd.

"Excuse me! I'm trying to find— oof! Hey! Watch you're go—ouch!" Anna bounced from person to person, jostled by passersby who didn't seem to notice who it was they were jostling. Her knapsack jingled painfully. It was having a worse time than she was. Not that it was alive, but it just… made things easier pretending inanimate objects were. Made life more vibrant. More... exciting!

"I'm sorry!" cried the girl who had bumped her. The impact had knocked the hat off of Anna's head, causing it to land on the head of a smaller man, blinding him and causing him to bump into the person next to him, and so on. The Arendelle princess' trademark red hair was now exposed to the world, and her head to the heat.

"I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you okay?" asked the girl, red-faced and clearly embarrassed.

Anna rubbed her uncovered arm, courtesy of the dress she wore. She studied the girl, realized they were of similar age. "I'm fine." Anna said, still watching her. Straight raven hair cut at the shoulders with dark eyes and a lone bang separating them, and with pinkish skin, getting lighter as her flusteredness wore off.

"It's partly my fault." Anna said. "I'm all turned around with all these people here. Some of them are _really_ tall." Anna stood on the tips of her toes, hand raised to block the sun. She turned her head, left then right, seeing only shoulders and heads and the occasional shop sign. None were what she was searching for. "I can't see a thing!" she said, her voice strained.

"What are you looking for?" asked the girl softly, shyly.

"Gorvik's. He has a shop here. A new one, I think? It's supposed to open today, now that he's back." Anna turned to look at her. "Do you know where it is?"

The girl blinked, and her eyes went to Anna's hair, and then back down to meet her questioning gaze. The girl gasped, then covered her mouth with her palm. Her face flared red again. "Princess Anna!" She curtsied, the fastest Anna had seen.

"Um, yes?" Anna said.

"My apologies, Your Highness, for not recognizing you. We've only just arrived."

Anna realized what she meant by that. "You're Gorvik's daughter?" she asked, to be sure.

The girl nodded. "My name is Elvira." she said. "Father sent me to look for you, thought you might get lost in the crowd."

Anna smiled at her. "You don't need to apologize. I should be the one apologizing for being late." she laughed. "Thank you, though. For coming to find me."

"No, thank you—" she turned, suddenly looking away. "I mean, I didn't even know what you looked like so I would've just gotten lost myself."

"I guess it's good we bumped into each other then!" Anna said, grinning.

"You lost your hat, though." Elvira said, pointedly. She craned her neck back and forth to search the crowd.

Anna waved her hand. "It's just a hat. Besides, I'd much rather have a friend."

"Friend?" Elvira froze. Turned to face her, puzzlement on her fair face.

"Yup! We're friends now." Anna nodded vigorously.

"W-we are?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions." Anna shrugged her right shoulder and grunted, as she was bumped into once more, nearly unslinging the knapsack.

"Two is a lot?"

"It's two too many, I think." Anna replied.

"Well, my father says I am inquisitive by nature."

Then Anna remembered. "About him…"

"Oh, right!" said Elvira, who seemed to have forgotten her purpose in coming there as well. "I think I came from this direction…" She turned to face the other way. Froze, turned again forty five degrees. Then one eighty. Then back to face Anna, laughing nervously. "I… seem to have lost my bearings." she said, her tone apologetic.

"I know what that's like." Anna said, low as an echo.

"Let's get out of this crowd." Elvira suggested, having gotten on the tips of her toes herself. She was shorter than Anna, and so her viewpoint must not have differed much. Was probably worse, actually. "This way!" She grabbed Anna's hand, pulling her along.

Normally a princess of a nation would not stand to be pulled along by a stranger—let alone one of such significantly lower rank, but Anna was far from a normal princess. She didn't care about such things. Didn't even think about them, usually, except when contemplating the absurdity of it all. Society and its expectations. She scoffed about them sometimes, but couldn't deny that she was fortunate to have been born into the position she was in. And besides, this was a _friend_. Society had no power over _friendship_.

What a silly notion, she thought. She let herself be pulled—not that there was anything she could do about it as the girl's grip was strong— allowing herself a yelp whenever it appeared as if she were on a collision course with unsuspecting market-goers.

They stopped when they finally reached the edge of the market square, and Anna breathed several deep breaths. She smelled almonds again, and turned to find the line having grown since she last saw it. Out of one crowd, into another. She was back where she started, before having met the girl. It was only slightly less dense with people, and they got there with only slightly fewer bruises than they expected to attain, which can be seen as a blessing, she supposed, small as it was.

"What I would give to have one of those…" Anna caught Elvira whisper, beside her. The girl's eyes stared longingly through the glass.

"You haven't had a nutcake yet?" Anna asked. In another place, asking such a question would be unusual, but this was Arendelle, where nutcakes and living went hand in hand.

She shook her head. "We just moved here."

Anna blinked. "But the villagers said your father bought the house years ago."

"My father lived here awhile, by himself." Elvira stared at the ground as she spoke, rubbing the pavement with the tip of her shoe. "He didn't have enough money to take us all at first, so he did some work, got some new contracts across the sea, and finally, here we are." She smiled, turning to Anna.

"It's a really nice place." she added. There was something in the way her eyes looked at that moment. A sorrow in the darkness. Her words, the sound of them, and her expressions told two stories. Anna made note to think about them later. There may be truths there, or deceptions, but the tale must be interesting regardless. They looked at each other for awhile. Anna cleared her throat.

"About him…" she said again, this time with a chuckle.

Elvira's mouth formed an 'o', and her slanted eyebrows lent her an expression that appeared otherworldly in nature. Anna laughed, couldn't help herself, and Elvira flushed red.

"Th-this way!" she muttered, turning her hair in a flurry of black. They jogged along the line of shops, snaking through lines and crowds of people as they came across them. The shop was quite far from the side of the marketplace that exited to the port-bound road. On the opposite side of that road, actually, but they managed to get there without accumulating extra bruises or getting lost. It took them longer, having had to go around along the sides of the square, but was well worth it for Anna could see the merchant, now a shop-owner, sitting behind his counter. He was a burly man, with cropped black hair and blue eyes. He stood up when they entered through the door.

"Your Highness!" Gorvik's voice filled the room, ringing in Anna's ear. He brought a hand to his chest and tipped his head, greeting her in the usual way. "I apologize for the location, but I am glad to see that the both of you made it here in one piece." His words were thickly slurred and deep.

Elvira ran forward and hugged her father, who returned the act with affection. "Your mother was worried." he whispered, or tried to.

"That I'd get lost?" Elvira replied, her voice also lower. Anna wasn't sure if she was supposed to hear the conversation.

"Or worse." Gorvik admitted.

Elvira rolled her eyes. "She's such a worry-wart."

"She cares about you."

"I know. But maybe a little too much?" Elvira looked up at her father.

"No such thing." he said, laughing, before turning to face Anna again. "My apologies Princess Anna."

"Oh no, you don't have to." Anna said, shaking her head. "I understand. Caring about someone so much." She hooked her hands together. "I feel the same way."

Gorvik chuckled, looking at his daughter. "About Elvira?"

This time it was Anna's turn to flush. "No no no, I meant Elsa!"

"Ah, the Queen. That makes sense." Gorvik said, winking. His expression became calm. "You wanted to see my collection?"

Anna squealed. Couldn't help it.

"I'll take that as a yes." said Gorvik, retrieving a small key from his pocket. He walked away, into a room in the back. She heard footsteps, going upstairs, then footsteps coming down. He appeared at the doorway moments later, carrying a box. It wasn't much larger than a hardcover text. He laid it on the counter, inserted the key, turned, and flipped the cover open. He rotated the box so Anna could see. "The spoils of my most recent adventures." he said, proudly.

The trinkets were immaculate, and so varied. Anna ran her eyes down a row—they were organized in rows— then down to another, and another. Five rows in total. Only his most recent adventures, she repeated in her head.

"Where did you get them?" she asked, tearing her gaze away from the shining artifacts with difficulty.

"Those leaf shaped brooches," he replied, pointing into the box. "got those from a fellow in Nimrienne. Was giving them away for free."

Anna extended a finger to touch one of them, and ran it along the painted ridges, silver where they had been scratched. She closed her eyes and saw the forests. Dark green, with leaves shaped just like those brooches floating to the ground. She followed those leaves, flying, under the cover of the canopy through which not even light could find quarter. A village there, in near perpetual darkness, and villagers staring at her with the same curiosity with which she stared at them. She opened her eyes and she was back. In Arendelle, in the market place, in Gorvik's shop. The shopkeep was smiling.

"Corona." He pointed at a bauble, with a yellow sun painted upon purple background. Anna nodded. She'd heard of the island kingdom, had wanted to visit for awhile. "Got that one for free too, actually." He chuckled.

He pointed to the next trinket in the row, a wooden earring, carved in such a way that it appeared as if a snake slithered down its length. It was painted with green lacquer. "Bought that in Olinath, from another merchant. Worn by a snake cultist, and found on his corpse. It's believed to grant a second life. To allow one to shed their skin and start life anew. Not sure that's how molting works, but a creepy history for that one, nonetheless."

"How about this one?" asked Anna. Her elbows rested on the counter, one hand holding up her chin. With the other, she pointed at a medallion. It wasn't as polished as the others, but it was gold, far more expensive than any trinket she'd seen. In the center of it was a hammer and anvil, and along its circumference were words written in a language she couldn't read.

Gorvik craned his neck to look at it, then his expression grew dark. He looked around the room. It was just the two of them in there, as Elvira had gone. Appearing troubled, Gorvik took the medallion from the box and pocketed it. "Wasn't supposed to be there." he said, with a grunt. He continued describing the trinkets.

When he was finished, Anna found herself wishing even more to have the chance to travel. To see the world. Images of towering spires, cities in the desert, forests as big as the sea itself, filled her mind. She looked at each of the trinkets, absorbing the tales they told, hoping she'd remember, wishing she could just take them home with her. As if reading her mind, Gorvik closed the box, locked it, and pushed it towards her, key resting on top.

"They're yours." he said, with a smile.

Anna raised her hands, showing him her palms. "No," she began, "I can't—"

"I saw the way you looked at them. Was like that myself once, too." he drummed his fingers on the box, his expression growing contemplative. "I know you can take them."

Anna nodded, couldn't help feeling a little ashamed. Did her status as princess grant her the privilege of receiving such things for free? Would she have been given the same courtesy if she had been born a commoner? "Can I atleast pay you for it?" she asked, her voice a little feeble.

He looked at her for a moment, then he nodded, understanding passing between the looks they shared. "I think a couple silvers should do."

Anna got out her purse and dropped the silvers in the shop-owner's hand, plus a third. He raised a brow, but Anna just gave him a quick nod. "Thank you." she said, meaning it.

"Where will you go now?" Gorvik asked, pocketing the coins.

"I think…" Anna turned her head towards the door, from which the growing tumult of the crowd filtered through. The crowd seemed to be moving towards the center of the square, where the fountain and the rest of the frozen statues were. She thought she could see someone standing at the center, violet cloak fluttering. "I'm going to see what's going on over there."

"I'm coming with you." said Elvira, appearing beside her. "I mean—" she looked to the ground, embarrassed. "I would like to come with you. May I?"

Anna looked at her and smiled. "You may." she said, and the two of them left through the door. Anna, who couldn't help breaking into a run, told her, "There's someone I'd like you to meet." .


	4. Chapter 4

Valentin held the palm of his hand to a statuette that the queen had made in the center of the square. His skin grew numb and came away cold. Not wet, just cold. It puzzled him, but he did not dare to even try_ to _comprehend it. Magic wasn't meant to be understood. That's why it was called 'magic'. It did things that were not supposed to be done, and went against the laws that everything else had to abide by. Not even the sun, as spectacular as it was, had power over it.

Valentin hummed, fingers stroking his clean shaven chin. The cold sensation felt pleasant in light of the sweltering heat. He looked towards the queen, who stood casually by another of her wondrous works, and remembered his promised oath. _As surely as the sun rises._

"She's not here." she said, with a frown.

Valentin left the statuette, gliding to where the Queen stood. Crystalline trees created a translucent canopy above their group, which included the queen and her guards, as well as the growing number of onlookers who for the moment were afraid to approach. The fountain lay ahead, its water spout frozen in an arrangement of wicked edges that glinted so marvelously that Valentin could scarcely stare at it for more than a moment before he was hit by a barrage of reflected and refracted light.

He turned towards the surrounding shops and stands, then to the stalls and people and then back to she who ruled them. Elsa was looking past him, to those same things and maybe more. He watched her darting blue eyes as they searched. It was easy for anyone who knew her to guess who it was she was searching for. The two sisters had become increasingly attached to each other of late, the older surprisingly much more so to the younger. With this thought, a smile came upon his lips. Apart for more than a decade, this at least was as it should be.

"Do you know the location of the shop?" asked Elsa. She still didn't look at him, not that Valentin minded. He knew that expression on her face. He'd seen it before on the face of another, and didn't question his own assumption about the emotion it concealed. She was worried. She had no need to be, but he could understand why.

Before the meeting, he'd been notified of the princess' intentions to visit the Olinathi shopkeep. She had an unusual fascination for trinkets. Unusual compared to everyone else, that was. For her, it was to be expected. He enjoyed the girl's quirk. She took after her father, from back when they were still boys. Still, it made him wonder about the things she did. What did she see in those cheap decorative objects that had her so excited that she would shake with glee upon mere mention of them?

Sometimes he felt as if the young princess lived in two worlds: one real and one imagined. Yet her visions, when she told them, were often accurate to some degree. That was difficult for him to explain. Then again, this was the second generation of the royal family that he served, and like the first, he often had more questions than he could find explanations for. It made him wonder about the point of searching for explanations at all, as each one he found raised more questions, and with those were raised more headaches. He was growing old, and could do without the headaches.

Anna, like her sister, like their parents, was an anomaly. They were all precious anomalies in a world where rulers were too often irreparably flawed. He couldn't protect Agdar, but he could protect Agdar's legacy. And that started with his children—who, being like him, made the job of protecting all the more difficult. The curiosity for the unknown that Anna possessed came from Agdar as well. _That_ gave Valentin some cause for concern, but what could he do about that?

He couldn't stop her—not that he even wanted to, but he did send a man to tail her just to make sure that she was safe. The two sisters often refused accompaniment, but Valentin could not leave them completely unprotected. Gorvik had a reputation as an honest man, but a reputation wasn't always to be trusted. He'd misjudged Hans, as everyone had, and would not commit the same mistake again. He frowned, examining the crowd that gathered around them. With as many people as were here, there was a possibility that his man had been lost among them.

He looked up at the sky and found the sun, refreshing his bearings. There were four streets that led into the square: north, south, east, and west. They had come from the southern street, which intersected the portside road that also led to the castle. As they were now in the center of the square, the shop would be north of their position. "Right along that corner, there." he said, pointing. When the queen followed the direction of his arm, a puzzled look came upon her face, as he expected.

"I don't see it." she murmured. She raised her hand to block the glare and squinted. All that could be seen of the shop was the rooftop, and Valentin only recognized it by its position and not by any of its defining features. Her guards kept most of the crowd at a distance, but they inched closer and closer with each passing moment, reducing visibility all the more.

"Your Majesty!" cried a voice from the crowd, among other voices. He recognized the nasal tone. The weaver's son, Torfinn.

Younger than the queen by almost four years. In Valentin's eyes, he was still a boy. Acted like one, too. His obsession with Elsa was troubling, and as much as he wished not to have to—the boy's father, Tolvig, was a friend—he had no other choice but to implement a countermeasure against his possible threat.

With the queen going out on nightly strolls alone and often, he needed eyes on those who had the potential to do her harm. He strained his eyes with his search, but he couldn't see Torfinn, not through this amalgam of faces where too many appealed to his critical eye for him to focus on one boy whose features were as plain as any. Fortune willing, his other man would be there watching so he didn't have to.

"We should get moving." Valentin said.

Around them, the guards strained against the force of dozens upon dozens of people attempting to push past their beleaguered wall of interlocked arms, vying for a view of the queen. He looked back at the jostling mass, lines creasing his sweat moistened forehead. Staring at each face, he realized he didn't recognize many of them and concluded that a good portion of those must be foreigners. It was not often that an entire landmass becomes covered in snow and ice in the middle of summer—if only for a few days, and word of it had quickly travelled across the seas, to Olinath and beyond.

"Captain Pedersson!" Valentin called. The broad shouldered captain of Elsa's Evergreen Guard turned to face him.

"What is it, Councilman Valentin?"

"Have your men pave a way for us to get through to North Market street." he pointed, to help the man with the direction.

Captain Pedersson went to look, turned back, saluted and then left to relay orders to his men. Valentin watched the man earnestly. He had known Samuel for a long time. Most everyone knew each other in the village, but Samuel was known more than most. His heroics made him popular among the populace. Respected, too. Then his eyes fell to the captain's prosthetic leg. Heroism came with a steep price, sometimes, he thought pensively.

The crowd opened up before them slowly, but surely, as if a wedge were being driven through it. Some resisted, stalling progress. Foreigners made up the most of them, unaware of how capable Elsa's personal guard could be if tested.

"I will see the queen!" bellowed a large and hairy man.

"You see her." grunted one of the guards, arms outstretched to keep this giant at a distance. It was a struggle, and his cap had become tilted forward and was covering his eyes so that he was, instead, the one who could not see.

"I will speak to her!" again, the man bellowed his words. Valentin found that quite unnecessary. The man had an axe belted at his waist, wriggling so much with its owners shaking fury that Valentin was worried it might unloose itself and clatter to the ground, where it could cause harm.

"You will not." This time it was Samuel who spoke, and not even this rude and abrasive bear of a man could stand up to _him_. He cowered away, though his face remained crumpled and aggressive. The two stared at each other for what seemed like an age, before the stranger spun away with a huff, bowling his way through the crowd, taking his axe, still wriggling, with him.

"Goddess!" another man cried, struggling to get past two men of the guard holding him back. Valentin smiled at their self-control. They exhibited the patience that their people had become known for, and the rare ability of solving altercations without a trade of blows. True paragons of Arendelle and her qualities, he thought, of the men doing their country proud. Then he frowned.

"What did you call me?" Elsa asked, as if reading his mind. She stepped towards the man, her eyebrows furrowed, as a wave of perplexion rippled across her face. Valentin watched her wearily. _Don't get too close,_ he cautioned, when she caught his eye. She waved for the guards to let the man go, and they did, turning back to keep the rest of the crowd from trying their chances at an audience with the queen. Captain Pedersson stepped in between the queen and the foreigner, who smartly kept his distance.

He was short, light-skinned, with a coat of white fur draped around his shoulders. Valentin thought it unusual for someone to be wearing such thick clothing in the face of the weather the village was experiencing. From the look of his dress and his stature, Valentin guessed that the man was either a resident of Maywich, in Nimrienne, or from a village in the tundra further north. A far distance to travel, he thought, regardless of which of his two guesses were correct; _if _they were correct.

"I called you goddess, Your Majesty." the stranger said, bowing. He spoke in swift, well punctuated tones, surprising Valentin.

The queen frowned, her lower lip quivering for a fraction of a second before she caught herself, but not before Valentin caught what had happened. "Why would you call me that?" she asked, her voice empty of any of the fear Valentin thought he saw.

A puzzled expression fell upon the man's face, as if he expected a different response. "Because that is what you are." He said, matter-of-factly. "Goddess. Worldshaper."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I am not a… goddess, like you say." Elsa replied, politely. "I'm only... human.

"Tell me, why have you come to Arendelle?" she asked, attempting to change the subject.

The man hesitated, then cleared his throat. "I came by request of my people. From Coldwatch, in the North."

"Nimrienne?" came the Queen's reply. Valentin shook his head, just as this man did the same.

"Further. In the land known as the Frozen Waste, though I would argue that the name is inaccurate."

"Mmm." Elsa appeared thoughtful. Valentin realized that she likely had not heard the name before. "What is your name?" she asked.

"Caspar, Your Majesty." he bowed again.

Elsa nodded. "Caspar, why did your people request for you to come to me?"

"For aid." he said, with some difficulty. "The Grand Duke harrows our village. We've been raided three times already, all by his men, but he refuses to admit responsibility." Valentin stiffened at that.

"For what reason would Grand Duke Dario raid the northlands?" asked Valentin, entering the conversation. "Why target your village?"

"They mean to strike down our beliefs." said Caspar, downcast.

"What kind of beliefs?" Elsa asked. If she was troubled by the information, she didn't show it.

Caspar looked uncomfortable then, avoiding eye contact, with his shoulders hunched. Tiredness or something worse seemed to have overtaken him. Valentin realized now that he must have misjudged his age. This was no man, but a boy still, raised in a harsh environment that shaped him to look older than his years would suggest.

"Magic." he said, his voice a low whisper. "We believe that magic is what shaped the world, and what continues to refine it. An out-of-date belief, we are told. Foolishness, in this new _Age of Reason._" he said the last few words with some contempt.

"The Grand Duke, he... knows it exists but he wishes to strike all knowledge of it from the land."

Valentin crossed his arms. That made some sense. If the Duke of Weselton did not take kindly to Elsa's abilities, it was likely that the Grand Duke whom he represented did not see it in a positive light either. This news did not bode well for them.

"We almost believed him. Almost went along." Caspar sighed. "Then you appeared out of nowhere." he said, looking directly at the queen, green eyes twinkling.

"We heard rumors at first," Caspar continued, "of what you did. But in our land, you see it is snowing all the time. We couldn't tell the difference. Couldn't separate hearsay from fact." He chuckled, awkward in the face of his nervousness. "Still, we wanted to know. We needed to know. And so I came."

Elsa nodded, slowly. If anything, she could understand his need.

"And here you are." he said, his voice breaking. "A true goddess, standing right before my eyes." He fell to one knee, head tilted towards the ground. The crowd surrounding them did not move. A long moment passed silently. Elsa's face was a mask, from which Valentin could gleam nothing.

"I'm sorry, but as I said, you are mistaken." she whispered, so only the four of them could hear. "A goddess would not do what I have done."

Caspar stared blankly and Valentin could see the questions in his eyes. The crowd circled them, watching every movement like a pack of wild beasts, trying to catch every word that was being said. Too much risk for little reward. He walked up to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently. Caspar looked up at him. His eyes were glassy, like marbles.

"I do not know what we will be able to do about your village, but I will look for a way to help." Valentin said, keeping his voice down.

Relations with the northern country were wearing thin, what with the attempted murder of Elsa on the command of one of its dukes. He didn't need a rumor floating around that Arendelle intended to strike against Nimrienne, a conclusion some may make of their conversation should it be allowed to continue.

"If a way exists, we'll make it happen."

Caspar said nothing at first. Then, after a time, "Will you give me your word?"

"You have it." Valentin replied, without hesitation. As Caspar was beginning to turn, Valentin tightened his grip and brought himself close. He whispered into his ear, "There is a tavern by the docks, in front of the HMS Mariner. Meet me there." His grip loosened, and he brought his hand to rest at his side.

With a nod, Caspar muttered a thanks and backed away, sinking into the crowd. Elsa watched him go.

"What did you tell him?" She asked. Again, her voice revealed nothing of her thoughts.

"I told him we'd help in any way we can. And... I will meet with him to obtain more information." replied Valentin.

He meant what he had said, and would do what he promised. A man did not give his word lightly; one that did so may not be worthy to be called a man at all. Even while he believed this, he could not deny that there was power in lies, just as he could not deny that nothing substantial could be gained from lying here, nor from telling half-truths. Only he and the Queen would know of the meeting and that was fine with him, _assuming_ she would not tell anyone.

"Can we?" the Queen inquired further.

Valentin could not answer the question with certainty, but her interest in the subject intrigued him. He shrugged. "The Northern Waste is far, and we have our own issues to deal with, but I'll look for a way, nonetheless."

Elsa nodded and silence returned to their group as the Queen returned to her usual quiet self, talking only by necessity while searching for her sister who still had not been found.

"So was that a marriage proposal, or was that a marriage proposal?" asked a cheery feminine voice, piercing the monotony.

Valentin jumped.

"It was neither." answered Elsa, coming forward gracefully. Her violet cloak flapped in the wind. She may not be a goddess as the boy Caspar had believed, but she certainly looked the part and Valentin knew that the foreigners would return home with tales of her beauty. It was only a matter of time before prospective monarchs and their princes came knocking at Arendelle's doors.

Princess Anna appeared next to him, holding a hefty looking box in her hands. "Your Highness!" he said, his heart still racing. He managed a clumsy bow.

"Councilman." she winked. Another girl stepped up beside her. Short, with shoulder length black hair and a single bang in between intelligent eyes. Another new face, but one of increased importance compared to the others he had seen. What was she doing with the princess?

Past stillness, a storm erupted from the crowd. Anna, much beloved, grinned at them all.

"We were looking for you!" Elsa exclaimed, not holding back the joy she felt.

"Well, you found me." Anna chuckled, in the midst of being hugged. "Or I guess I found you. I'm not in trouble, right?"

"No, not at all." said Elsa, after separating. She waved her hand. "I was hoping I'd be able to catch you at the store and see those trinkets you've been raving about." She noticed the box. The woodwork was ordinary, but it was such a curious and cumbersome thing to be hauling around that Valentin couldn't help but wonder what was inside.

"What's in there?" asked Elsa.

"The trinkets I've been raving about." Anna grinned. Of course, thought Valentin. The princess gestured to the girl beside her. "Elsa, this is Elvira." Then, she turned to the girl and gestured to the Queen. "Elvira, this is Elsa, my sister. I mean—Queen Elsa, my queenly sister. Wait, what..."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." the girl named Elvira curtsied. "It is an honor to finally get to meet you." She possessed a soft voice, and sweet, like a morning breeze.

Elsa tilted her head.

"She's Gorvik's daughter," Anna explained. "and it's her first day here. She's from Olinath. From the city of..." She grunted, attempting to switch the box over to one hand. Valentin offered to take it from her, which she accepted, ""Tea Gull, was it?"

Elvira laughed nervously, face flushed. "Actually, it's Tegell, but you were close."

Anna began making wild gestures with her now-free hands. "Tegell!" she exclaimed. "Wow!"

"I wouldn't have guessed you were from overseas." said Valentin, to Elvira. "It's rough, but I recognize our dialect in your speech."

"My mother was from here, I guess I get it from her?"

Valentin hummed. "Your mother?"

"Krista Lansdotter?"

Valentin tossed the name into his head, bouncing it around like a ball in a container with spherical depressions. It eventually touched upon a depression that fit and stuck there, and the memory came to the surface. A young lady, with pink skin and an easy smile. She carried a bundle on her arms and a scarf around her neck, both the colour of the sky. She stood at the edge of the port, smiling. Behind her, a large man, with long and flowing gold hair. Her husband, who had stayed until the birthing, now ready to sail off to take her home.

"Krista... ah yes, I remember. You were born here, then?"

Elvira nodded.

"The two of you left when you were only a babe. Amira will be happy to know that she's returned."

Elvira opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out and she closed it again promptly.

Valentin checked the sun. The day was getting late. Amira would be expecting him soon, and there was still his meeting to attend. "Well, I suppose I should leave the three of you to it." he said, courteously bowing. "Queen Elsa, my dinner proposal?"

"Accepted." she answered, with a smile. "Take care, Councilman."

"My wife will rejoice at the news."

Then he left them in the square, with Samuel and the rest of the guards to watch over them. He went south, towards the port, and towards the tavern in front of the HMS Mariner, where Caspar would be sitting in a booth, waiting for him.


	5. Chapter 5

While she watched Valentin walk away, Elsa felt the smile on her face grow. Finally free, she thought, brushing aside her cloak as it flapped in front of her, impending her walk. It was still only afternoon, but the market was thinning, which meant less people while many merchants still remained. Perhaps she could do some browsing herself, see what there was to be seen. Maybe she would find something to collect, like Anna had.

The last time she had been here was when she had erected her sculptures. That had been done at night, in the dim square, where the only light came from the few lonely lamps running out of fuel to burn, and the waxing moon above. She had been alone then; no merchants, no open doors, no Anna. Just her, completely alone, but a different kind alone than she had been used to. Not the kind where she was trapped, like a bird in a cage, but the kind of alone of a bird in flight, sole ruler of the skies, with the world passing below her. She had felt as if she could go anywhere. Be anything.

That's not to say that she felt caged here, though.

Anna and Elvira conversed beside her, the former asking the latter questions about her homeland. What it looked like, what sights there were to see, what kinds of clothing the people wore, and positing her own theories on those matters and others. Elsa liked listening to them. Always preferred listening to talking herself.

As queen, much of what she said could be—would be, scrutinized, what with the publications sprouting all over the country, so she preferred to remain quiet unless necessity demanded otherwise. This led to her label as the 'Quiet Queen' and 'Thinking Monarch', which she didn't consider to be too bad, though the council had thought otherwise.

Regardless, that was a stance she reserved for royal functions. This was to be a public outing for sisters. And maybe friends. She glanced at Elvira, the unexpected third member of their group, whose straight black hair swayed side to side as she pondered an answer to Anna's latest question. Anna was always meeting new people and, after Hans, Elsa figured it her duty as a sister to be skeptical of everyone she met. Quietly skeptical, she thought with a smile. They didn't have to know what she was thinking.

"Anna, take it easy on her." Elsa said, her smile beginning to retreat.

"Oh, but Elsa, you've heard of Tegell, haven't you?" Anna asked, enthusiastically. "You have all of those _books_."

Elsa groaned inwardly, thinking of the stacks upon stacks of books she had stored in her room. They were an assignment from the council, but she could not blame them for it as she had been the one to request that they send her any texts they considered 'required reading'. Sometimes she wondered if they sent her every book they saw in jest. The pile grew with each passing day, and she could not read nearly fast enough to stunt that growth.

"Well, I have one book that's specifically centered around it." she remembered. It was a dusty old thing, the only book in the library that she could find that described Tegell with more than a passing reference. Odd, considering its supposed prominence to Olinath, the empire to which it belonged. "It's a history of the city, spanning 500 years."

"And?" Anna's eyes were expectant, her lips parted in a smile.

"And it's _boring_—no offence, Elvira." She said, offering an apologetic look to Anna's new friend.

"I'm not offended." Elvira replied, shaking her head. Her lone bang fell across her left eye. She scrunched her face in contortion, attempting to blow it away. She succeeded after the third try, though Elsa thought it would have been much easier to simply use her hand to sweep it to the side. "It _is_ boring." she finished.

Elsa didn't know what to make of her. She was quiet and spoke in a voice that was soft and shy, but her eyes suggested that she wasn't as timid as one might be led to believe. They were wide and alert, seeming to absorb every detail set in front of her, but were of the mildest shade of blue that she had ever seen. In comparison, even Anna's eyes seemed fierce and challenging. A girl like this could be easily underestimated and just now, staring into her eyes, Elsa began to question if that wouldn't be a mistake.

"I meant the book." Elsa said. "For the most part, it just describes the architecture of the city and how superior it is to everything else. How much things cost, how rare the materials are. And so on. I'm sure the city itself is much more exciting."

"Nope, it's pretty boring, too." Elvira replied with a casual shrug.

"Really?" said Anna. "I heard it's shaped like a mountain."

"Where did you hear that?" asked Elvira.

"Well, technically I didn't _hear_ it so much as I sort of maybe… saw it?" Anna's forefingers were touching, pushing back and forth against each other while she grimaced.

_Another mention of those visions of hers_, Elsa thought. She struggled to keep the frown off her face. Not that the visions were a bad thing. In all honesty, Elsa loved listening to her sister go on and on about them. But the way some people looked at her, like she was some joke, like she was an amusing child to be tolerated, she hated that with an intensity that would be dangerous for her.

Elvira appeared puzzled. "I thought you've never—"

"I haven't." Anna interjected, rubbing her arm. "It's a long story." Then she stopped, brought her hands close to her face, seeming to stare at her palms. Elsa raised a brow. "My box!" Anna moaned, looking around for someone, likely Valentin, who would be long departed by now. "Oh no."

"Anna it's fine, he'll return it." Elsa said, casting a sweeping gaze around the square. Indeed, the councilman was gone.

"But I just got it…" Anna whimpered, hanging her head. "Whatever will I do?"

"Oh don't be so dramatic." Elsa joked. She found herself smiling again. Why was it so easy when Anna was around? "I think Kristoff might be rubbing off on you." she said, a statement she regretted immediately.

Anna became silent.

"Anna, I'm sorry, I—" Elsa began, but Anna shook her head. Her eyes were closed.

The wind blew, tickling the nape of Elsa's neck, pushing her single braid towards her shoulder. She stood with her hands interlocked in front of her, opposite from her sister and the girl who likely did not expect to have to bear witness to this moment. Anna's rare moment of weakness, when her spirits seemed to fade. And Elsa had brought this moment forth.

Anna straightened, hooking her hands. She opened her eyes at last, and Elsa met them, her soul tortured by the sight of her sister's tears. "Any word from him?" Elsa knew the question was coming, and her heart pained at the thought of having to answer it. She looked down to where her boots hid behind the hem of her skirt, planted solidly on steady ground though she felt anything _but_ steady.

"Not yet." she whispered. It had been almost two weeks since Kristoff departed on his trip. A simple delivery to Karne in the east that should not have taken much more than a third of the time that had gone by.

She'd ordered outriders to be sent out on the fourth day, on the same route that Kristoff and Sven were meant to take and they returned empty handed. The sisters and the council assumed a minor setback, delaying progress, but after a week had passed, Elsa ordered forth another group of outriders, expanding their search area. They found tracks which ended at Aberman's Ford, upon the River Alta that separated Arendelle from her neighbour, Karne. There was no sign of Kristoff or Sven, nor of their sled.

Anna was strong, always maintaining the belief that the pair were fine. Doubtless that they'd return. She would say that Kristoff and Sven were merely spending some time in Beyton, the Karnian capital, enjoying the hospitalities provided to Royal Ice Deliverers. But even as she said those words could Elsa notice the tendons tugging at her smile, trying to force it down. An internal battle between the voluntary and involuntary, and it was here that the latter's victory was finally at hand. Anna, caught between a smile and frown, looked stricken, and very unlike the strong and fearless optimist that Elsa had come to admire and love.

"We'll find them." Elsa said with confidence, taking her sister's hands in her own. "Or they'll find us."

Anna looked up at her, quivering lips steadying as she held the gaze they shared. "Let me look for him." she said, in a voice so powerful that Elsa knew she couldn't deny her request.

Elsa nodded, slowly, contemplatively. They wanted to search the lands personally much earlier, but the council had been adamantly against it. Foreigners were on the road, making them more dangerous than ever, and Anna herself wasn't very worried until recently, so there wasn't a great push to do it. But now, with tears in her sister's eyes and determination in their hearts, they _had_ to do this. Kristoff _needed _to be found, otherwise, Elsa knew not what she might do, for just the sight of Anna's distress brought out painful memories of her sins, and tears in her own eyes, and returned the crippling fear that had conquered her for years.

"Okay." she said. "We'll go."

But Anna shook her head. "Not you. " she whispered, breaking eye contact. She hung her head and rested it on Elsa's shoulder. Elsa felt her tears seep through the thin fabric of her dress. "The village needs you here."

"Anna, no." said Elsa, firmly.

"I'll take a horse, go to Beyton, and speak with the High Prince there. He will listen to me. I'm a princess." Anna stood up straight, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her fearlessness starting to return in spades.

"It's too dangerous for you to go alone." said Elsa, not liking the turn the conversation had taken. But for that she could only blame herself.

"I'll go with her." Elvira butted in, much to Elsa's annoyance.

"We don't even know who you are." Elsa spat. This was a family matter. A matter of royalty. Who did this girl think she was?

"Elsa, you just said it's too dangerous for me to go alone!" Anna reminded her, pointedly.

"Remember Hans, Anna? Remember what he almost did to us?" Elsa felt the anger swelling. Felt herself losing control. A patina of frost formed around her feet. She closed her eyes. Sighed. Whispered, "I can't lose you again."

"You won't." Anna's voice had become softer too. "But you also can't stop me. I'm going no matter what, and Elvira can come if she wants." Elsa looked at her. Anna had crossed her arms, turned her head, tilted it towards the sky, lips pursed. There would be no arguing. Not against this. She almost found herself laughing at the absurdity of it. Her she was, a queen, succumbing to her little sister's demands.

"At least let me choose someone to accompany you." she offered weakly, fearful that her voice may break. Anna was the strong one, but she needed to be strong, too. Needed to at least try. Couldn't cry. Not here. People were watching. "Someone I trust. One of my guards."

To her surprise, Anna nodded. "Fine. But we leave tonight."

Elsa shook her head. "No. You'll leave in the morning." she said, the words weighing heavily on her heart. She didn't want her sister to go. She wanted Anna to stay. Needed her to stay. But she couldn't have what she needed. What she could do was be what Anna needed. Supportive. Someone she could count on. Someone who loved her enough to let her go.

"If you're going to do this, you need to be prepared. I'll speak with Councilman Valentin about the preparations. We'll have supplies and an escort ready before the dawn bells ring."

* * *

><p>From the outside it looked unimpressive. It sat on the corner of South Street, right in front of where the HMS Mariner was anchored, and had an appearance of stacked stones with a roof and sign. It was like that by design. An old place, with a long history.<p>

Valentin entered through the door and was hit almost instantly by the pungent smell of vomit and drink, and bombarded by the screech of badly played pipes. _Not one of the good nights_, he thought with a wince. He dodged the trio of stumbling men exiting to the orange tinted outdoors, where the sun hung halfway over the horizon. It was getting late—he wasted too much time by dropping Anna's box off at the the castle —and he needed this to be quick.

The room was lit moderately, not so dim as to suppress the spirit, but neither was it lit too brightly to give too jovial a feel. Lighting in a tavern was important, as it dictated how the night would go and which patrons it would attract. Too dim a tavern tended for quieter nights, with brooding men sitting at the tables, drinking to forget. Too bright a tavern wasn't great for business either.

There was power in shadows. Imagined, for the most part, but especially to theatre goers, shadows could make one seem complex and interesting. The right lighting on ones face made them appear multifaceted, and some liked to equate that with intelligence. Pretenders often made for some interesting conversational partners.

"Councilman!" boomed the tavern keep, a stocky man with a bushy beard and bushy eyebrows.

"Bear!" Valentin exclaimed in reply. The two man clasped forearms.

Bear chuckled. "What brings you here, Val?" He slid a tankard across the counter, filled with ale. Valentin took a swig, then set it back down. Fire grew in his belly. He slid the tankard back, still more than half full with the beverage. Bear looked at him questioningly.

"I'm not here to get drunk." Valentin explained, having to raise his voice to be heard over the pipes and the singing guests. "I'm here for a meeting." He coughed. Some of the liquid had remained in his mouth and went down the wrong hole.

"Ah. Let me guess, the somber looking fellow in furs?"

Valentin nodded his head, still coughing. "Short? Foreigner?" he rasped, once the reflexes had abated.

"I suppose." Bear said, shrugging his giant shoulders. He tilted his head to the side, while wiping another tankard clean. "Up the stairs, far left corner."

"Thanks, Bear." Valentin turned to go.

"Hey, you gonna pay for this?" Bear asked, grinning.

Valentin left a silver's equivalent of coppers on the counter. "Enjoy." he said, finding much delight in Bear's protests. He walked in the direction Bear had gestured to a flight of stairs that led to the second floor of the tavern, which overlooked the first. He ascended.

The smell on the second floor was an obvious improvement. No vomit, less drinks, and less people. The overall ambience was to Valentin's preference as well. Slightly dim, spacious, with distant sounds that were actually quite soothing now that they weren't crashing abrasively against his eardrums. He looked for the corner Bear had mentioned and found Caspar sitting there, head hung over his glass. Valentin took the seat opposite to him.

Caspar looked up, smiling weakly. "I would greet you," he said, pronunciation as keen as Valentin remembered, "but I'm afraid I do not even know your name."

"My apologies." Valentin said, extending his open hand across the table. Caspar took it. "I am Valentin, Councilman and advisor to The Queen."

"Greetings Councilman," Caspar said, dryly, drinking from his cup. The liquid was clear.

"Greetings, indeed." Valentin replied, bemused.

"This is water, by the way." said Caspar, raising his glass. "Alcohol… it is forbidden."

Valentin hummed. "Do you know why I have asked you to meet with me here?"

Caspar put down his cup and sighed. "Well, I imagine the reason for your meeting with me likely has to do with questions you want answered, pertaining especially to why my village was attacked.

"I told you we were attacked due to our belief in magic, which you seemed very concerned about. Stiffened like a statue, you did. And I don't blame you, given that your Queen is quite magical herself. You want to know why the Grand Duke wants magic eradicated, I suppose, to see if there's any chance that Arendelle would be targeted next?"

Valentin raised a brow. "Are you sure that's water in your cup?"

Caspar shrugged. "As for why you chose this tavern, I have no idea. Might be you're an idiot, asking a young boy such as myself to come here."

"That is most definitely not water in your cup." Valentin concluded.

Caspar slid the cup across the table. Valentin lifted it up to his nose. It was odorless. "It most definitely is." Caspar said, green eyes rolling.

Valentin found himself bemused. _This is unexpected_, he thought. He'd imagined the conversation going very differently, involving him using whatever methods of social persuasion he had in his arsenal to get the boy to reveal as much information as he could about Nimrienne and the Grand Duke's plans. He thought Caspar wouldn't be talkative, nor did he think he'd be as observant as he apparently turned out to be.

"That's very impressive." Valentin commended. He shifted his position in the chair, leaning back past the rails onto open air, using them instead to rest his left arm. "But why the sullen demeanor?"

"Because this is pointless!" said Caspar. He said the words aggressively, but his expression remained the same. "You can't help my village." he said. "We're too far. So this whole mission is just one big waste of time. I'd rather be home, fighting against the Grand Duke."

"Your people, they're resisting the Grand Duke's attacks?"

Caspar scoffed. "No. Most of them are too afraid to fight."

"And for good reason." Valentin said. "Nimrienne has a sizable force at its disposal."

"Sizable, yes, if you're only taking numbers into consideration. But they're rowdy. Lacking discipline. Stubborn. And they fight in one big square like an army of rabble, very easy to rout."

"I agree. But even so, twenty thousand muskets is nothing to scoff at. Is your village full of seasoned soldiers, with the discipline to stand at the face of those guns?"

"No." Caspar admitted. He expelled a long sigh and leaned forward and hid his face within the tops of his folded arms, resting against the table top. Valentin could not tell if it was a trick of the flickering light, but at that moment, the boy appeared to be sobbing, yet when he raised his head moments later, there wasn't a single tear nor hint of one on his face.

"Like I said," Valentin went on, taking care to sound reassuring. "I will look for any way we can help."

"My thanks." Caspar mumbled, taking another sip from his cup. He looked up, green eyes suddenly fierce. "Alright, what is it you want to know?"

Valentin nodded. "Everything. I want to know everything, starting with where you obtained your knowledge of Nimrienne's army."

A glint appeared then in the boy's eye, who smiled mischievously. "You might want to grab yourself a drink first."


	6. Chapter 6

The third round of drinks came halfway through Caspar's explanations, brought to them upon a silver platter by Bear. One by one the pair of glass cups were placed on the table, filled to the brim with iced water, a slice of lemon, and a straw. Unusual drinks to have, especially in a tavern at night, and Bear was not subtle with his opinion of it. Valentin had been a different man long ago, before Agdar was king and before he had met Amira. A coarse man, prone to bawdiness under influence of drink.

He didn't like to think about those times, but offered Bear a laugh as good as he could give. The big man patted him on the shoulder, forcing a grunt from Valentin. It was a heavy pat, from a heavy hand. He rubbed the aching bundle of muscle, wondering if it would bruise while the tavern keep lumbered away, singing heartily to an inconsistent beat being played below. _The World in Reverse_, Valentin thought, recognizing the tune. _When days are dark, and nights are bright, and snowstorms own the summer, wait for warmth, for winter's light..._

He thought of Elsa and her statues and his promise, which he whispered.

Caspar grabbed at his glass greedily, bringing it up to his nose. He closed his eyes, sniffed, smiled contentedly, and then gulped it down. "I must have some of these to bring back to my village." he declared, holding the lemon slice in between his fingers.

"Do you not have them in the North?" Valentin asked.

Caspar shook his head, tossing the slice back into the cup. "The chief deems them too expensive to import." he said, fingering the glass. "Often I've had to travel to Maywich and Weselton, but the prices there are ridiculous for the quality. Hardly worth the journey, let alone the cost."

Valentin chuckled. "We've recently received a large shipment. I'll see if we have any to spare."

"Now, now, Councilman." cautioned Caspar, wagging his finger. "Bribery will not get you more information."

"Have you more information to give than what you've offered?" Valentin asked, with a casual raising of his brow.

"Well, no." said Caspar, after a moment's thought.

Valentin took a sip from his cup. The cold water burned his throat at first, but the residual feeling left behind was pleasant. "Then I suppose you're right that bribery won't get me any more information." He waved his free hand with a flourish. "But take the lemons anyway."

Caspar crossed his arms, laughing. "I _like _you." he said.

As music wafted up to their floor, low and sweet and cheerful, and as small and light feet tapped up the steps, Valentin looked and beheld a girl holding with great care two steaming plates of rice and vegetables and meat in her hands, trying very hard to keep her balance. He laughed, offered to help, and was met with a dark accusatory glare. Valentin grinned, suddenly reminded of himself in youth.

"I can carry a few plates, Uncle." Alys Bericsdotter spat, laying the plates down in front of them; one for Valentin and one for Caspar. Cutlery followed.

"My favourite niece!" said Valentin, taking up his knife and fork. "I am so glad to see that your demeanor has improved since last I saw you."

Alys stuck out her tongue. She turned to Caspar, expressing puzzlement at his attire. "Who's this?" she asked, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes.

"Caspar of Northwatch, my lady." said the aforementioned before Valentin could even begin to open his mouth. The boy had left his chair and was bowing at Alys' feet. The girl seemed in utter shock for the slightest of moments before scrunching her face and turning away.

"Spare me the formalities, frosty." she said, coldly, leaving them.

"F-frosty?" Caspar asked, incredulous, once Alys had gone.

"Ice-related murmurings have experienced a vast increase in popularity of late." Valentin said. Then he reached out and poked the fur-trimmed hood of Caspar's jacket. "That is some fine fur, though. Polar bear?"

Caspar flushed red, then turned away. "

"Eat." Valentin suggested, slicing at the meat on his plate. It was slathered in a dark brown sauce and smelled of gravy. He put it in his mouth and chewed, humming satisfactorily. Caspar watched him for a moment, then proceeded to do the same.

"These training grounds you mentioned," Valentin began, once the pair had consumed several silent mouthfuls of the food. "you're certain they can be observed without risk of detection?"

"I am certain of nothing, except that life is never without risks, Councilman." Caspar stated, moving the vegetables on his plate around with his fork.

"Yes, but it is often to the risk-taker's benefit to know the danger they are exposing themselves to."

Caspar hummed. "True words."

"So?"

"The risk is not so great, otherwise I would not be here." Caspar replied, slouching backwards in his seat. "Outriders patrol the land nearby the vantage point on a schedule, usually by late in the afternoon. It would be wise to be long gone by then."

Valentin nodded solemnly. "Is that the only location where a good view may be acquired?"

"Well, there are others." said Caspar, moving his plate to a neighbouring table. Valentin did the same. "It's a bloody mountain, after all." he continued, retrieving the folded up map from the folds of his coat. He splayed it out on the table.

Valentin pushed his chair in, observing once more the markings on the parchment. Vertical lines with diagonal branches marked the trees and the mountain was marked with a single peak. It overlooked a valley with a rectangular structure in the center surrounded by tree etchings, which Caspar placed a finger on. "Your problem is the flora. The valley is low and the trees are tall. Unless you are an exceptional climber, your best bet is this clearing _here._" he slid his feet horizontally, to a blank space near the base of the mountain, circled in red ink. "Gives you a nice good look of their formations." Caspar laughed. "If you can call them that."

_A massed column…_ Valentin folded his arms. The longer files meant more ranks, but decreased size of each. That meant less muskets fired per volley, but the fire would continue en masse until the whole column was stopped. It would be easy to rout a single column of a small magnitude, but a large one would be difficult with the forces at their disposal. The size disparity between their armies was enormous. Almost twenty thousands to their one, if counting just the standing armies. With full mobilization in effect, the proportion difference was lessened, but seventy thousands to six was not something he would bet against.

"Are you going to see it for yourself?" Caspar asked, knocking Valentin out of his contemplations.

Valentin shook his head. "I'll send someone else." he said. "What can you tell me about their arms?"

Caspar shrugged. "Can't really see the guns from that far, even with a spyglass."

"Our spyglasses may have better magnification."

"Maybe. I _can _tell you about the arms they threatened my village with, though."

Valentin considered that. "The army regiments are likely outfitted with different arms compared to the garrison. They did send the garrison, right?"

"A couple companies." Caspar nodded. "But if the army's armaments are different than the flintlocks carried by those two, that may be good for you."

"But if it isn't…"

"Then obviously it would _not_ be good for you."

Valentin hummed. If Nimrienne still fielded matchlocks, that would give Arendelle at least one advantage in the battle. Not only did flintlocks have a higher rate of fire than the matchlocks, they were much less cumbersome to carry on the battlefield and less susceptible to the conditions of the weather. Matchlocks required an open flame, and if the queen could create a snowstorm…

"Do you have any artillery?" asked Caspar.

"Of course, but so will they."

Caspar shifted in his seat. "Then what will you do, Councilman?"There was worry in his voice. "If Nimrienne attacks, surely Arendelle would fall."

_So would Northwatch_, Valentin thought.  
>"You're overlooking one thing, Caspar." Valentin smiled.<p>

"And what is that?"

"The power of miracles."

* * *

><p>Night had long since fallen by the time Valentin sighted his home upon the hill. It was a modest one, not as big as a villa, but neither was it as small as a shack. And quaint too, looking almost childlike nestled in between a ring of monolithic evergreen trees. A paved path snaked around the hump of earth, set in dark stone, with irregular wooden railings for support. He gripped the worn wood in his hand, thankful that it didn't shake when he set his weight upon it. He needed the rails, especially with the pain in his thighs being more of a constant than an unusual occurrence. <em>How time flies, <em>he thought, remembering days when hills such as these posed as much of an obstacle to him as a fly posed an obstacle to a horse.

By most counts his home was average. Average height; including the spire-like rooftop. Average width; he could cross end to end in no less that five seconds. Average tonality; not too much pink or yellow or green. And slightly below average location, as he had to suffer quite the climb each day, what with all the important places in the village being sea level. Being a member of the council didn't pay much, but Valentin was a frugal man and money was hardly ever an issue. What it was was enough for him.

Valentin opened the gates and walked into the yard, treading quietly upon the flagstones that led the way. The gate swung closed behind him in a long and sustained screech terminated by a metallic crash. He winced but continued on, past the growing numbers of ornamental greenery that Amira had placed on the ground and elsewhere. There were more past the steps, on the porch. They were quite varied. Some were flowers, bright and colourful, others were tall and frilly and covered in what looked like hairs, while still others were more mundane green things with wide heavy leaves and drooping stalks.

He made his way up the steps. Stopped. One pot had tumbled over, its soil spilt on the wooden boards. The fallen plant looked more like a tiny tree, but he couldn't be sure in the darkness, the lamp they usually hung by the door had inexplicably gone out while he was away. Valentin sighed, knelt, and picked up the pot, gingerly fixing the plant back into place. He fished into his pockets for his key.

As late as it was, Amira would still be awake, he thought, pulling out the key with a jingle. A copper fell from his pocket to the floor, rattling. He decided upon picking it up the following morning, if he could remember to. It was just a copper piece, and he needed a bed. And some sleep. He twisted the key in the lock until it had disengaged and he was able to open the door. He stepped into the house. Dark, quiet, As usual.

He walked into the kitchen and laid his coat upon a chair. Amira was there, sitting in the midst of towers upon towers of letters and books, but with an open space at one side where an oil lamp burned, sustained by the connecting steel container of oil elevated above the burner. She looked up at him for a moment and then back at her work, scratching at a leaf of paper with her pen.

"You're late." she stated.

Valentin walked up to her and planted a light kiss on her cheek. The skin was soft and warm. "Sorry." he whispered.

"How did the meeting go?"

"Fine." said Valentin, yawning. "Much of what was said I already knew, but the young man has a sharp mind. If we cross paths again, I may be inclined to ask him to remain here as my protege."

Amira nodded. Silence rose among them. _Too soon,_ Valentin thought. He peered over Amira's shoulder. She had a letter open and was copying its contents onto another sheet. "How goes the research?" he asked. "Is the continent truly in danger?"

"Part of it." she replied, sounding distracted. She stopped writing and laid her pen down, picking up the letter. "This," she said, "was from our informant in the capital." Valentin scanned the underlined glyphs towards the end of the letter. The decoded translation was written at the bottom in the small blank space reserved for them.

* * *

><p>…<em>to ports of call in Corona, Telum, Devero, and Mortref. The two week voyage was concluded when on this morn the HMS Sunchaser returned to port here in Langarth-by-the-sea. <em>_Prince Henri__ (9th to the throne) was last to depart with a procession, greatly veiled. __Prince Alhardt__ (3rd to the throne) arrived shortly with a detachment of guards outfitted with smoothbore muskets_

…_expressing shock..._

…_someone of great importance was in their midst and Alhardt seemed agitated, though Henri seemed to be in fine spirits_

…_followed them to the palace, and noticed before they disappeared into the castle a skirt through a crack in the veil. Prince Henri did not depart with a woman as far as I am aware._

* * *

><p>Valentin whistled. "So the young prince brought someone home."<p>

"Likely someone he shouldn't have." said Amira. She turned to look at him. "That letter was written just days before King Godfrey's arrived this morning."

He met her gaze. "You believe them to be correlated."

"Yes." she nodded curtly. "The reasons for which King Godfrey suspected a possible invasion were borderline paranoia. There was something he would not say, and I believe this is it."

Valentin laughed. "So what did Prince Henri do, kidnap some princess?"

"I wouldn't quite call it that, but it's possible he whisked away someone very important."

He pursed his lips. Looked at the letter again. "Judging by those ports of call, you've got Corona in the west, Mortref—so Olinath as well, and then Telum and Devero of the Volgan Empire in the south."

"Precisely."

He pointed at the names. "If we consider only those of these with princesses, then we're left with Corona and Olinath. That leaves either Princess Giselle, or one of Princesses Karolina, Diana, and Emilia.

"Leaving us with the question: which one did he take?"

A series of knocks came at the door then. Valentin sighed. "I'll get it." he said, walking away from the table. Amira nodded and resumed her writing.

There was a figure at the doorway, too dark for him to make out. He really should have lit the lamp before anything else. The knocks came again, sounding more urgent. "Hold on." said Valentin, raising his voice. He jogged down a perpendicular hallway to the table at its end. He pulled back the drawer. There, nestled in violet cloth were his flintlock pistol and sheathed knife. He took the knife as he would not be able to load and fire the pistol at a close range and hung it at his waist. Shaking his undershirt, he was able to conceal the protruding hilt. The knocks became more frantic when Valentin finally got to the door. He turned the handle and flung it open.

"My apologies for the interruption, Councilman." said her voice, soft and shaking. "But I require your help. I have made a grave error and something terrible has transpired from it."

"Anyway I can help, I will do it. Your Majesty." Valentin replied, wide eyed. "Please, come in."

And so Elsa passed through the doorway, icy mist clinging to her clothes, fractals of frost forming at her bare feet.

"What has happened?" Valentin asked. The room had become cold.

"It's Anna." said Elsa, looking woefully downcast. "She's left the village."

Valentin was dumbfounded. "At this hour? Why would she leave?"

"Because of Sven. He came back."

"With Kristoff?"

Elsa shook her head.


	7. Chapter 7

_A girl and a reindeer, flying underneath a moonless starless sky… _

_But not quite. _

_Anna couldn't see the reindeer, though surely she knew he was there. She could feel him; her legs against the muscles on his back, her chest pushed against the warmth of his bushy matted fur. Could even hear him; the ragged breaths, the faint thump of his feet against the floor, and quick and heavy gasps from running too much. She just couldn't see him because, well, he was someplace else entirely. He was… home, in Arendelle. Or leaving home.  
><em>

She paused. Lost track of time. Of the order of events. The world stopped spinning beneath her and she found herself suspended in mid-air. The land slowly lost colour, slowly faded. Then with a flash of white she was on the back of the reindeer. Anna shook her head, fought off the wave of nausea. Took in the scenery before her, closed her eyes again and breathed. A gust of wind and then she was in the air once more, in the skies of that other place, no longer motionless as it was before.

_Yes, that was what they were doing. Troublesome tidings had initiated their flight. But to where? To this dark place with rolling valleys of white and mountains and prickly forests and frozen lakes? _

_She glanced at the thing in her hand; her true love's cap to help her find her way, the one thing Sven had brought back. She held it up to her face, pressed it against her skin, almost smelling him. Almost feeling his arms around her, telling her about some arbitrary thing he knew nothing about. Like table manners. Or preparing lobster. Or even basic hygiene, really. _

_Some would call her love for him odd, maybe even unfounded or childish or stupid. A princess just did not take a landless man to be her partner. But they didn't see what she saw. Where others looked at Kristoff and thought the words 'simpleton' and 'peasant' and 'slovenly', she looked and thought the words 'handsome' and 'understanding' and 'honest'. And there was a beauty to him. Not like that of a finely crafted sculpture, but like a natural rock formation. Kristoff was what he was, and he bared it for all the world to see. No mind tricks. No games. Nothing at all like Hans. In fact, she would take him over all the princes in the world combined without a single moment's hesitation. A man like that was a treasure. Even she with her limited experience with the opposite sex knew that. And she had to get him back, no matter what the cost._

_She focused her mind on the cap. Willed the vision forward. The land below began to lose shape and form and continued to do so until it had become little more that a blur. _

_The weightlessness was an odd thing, mostly because it didn't feel like weightlessness at all. Instead, it felt like being held in place while the rest of the world shifted around her. The floor remained solid even though it no longer seemed to be there. Like her other visions, she remained unbound by the laws of nature, but this time it felt different, like she existed in two places at once, feeling two different sets of sensations. This had never happened before, as far as she could remember. _

_Higher, she went, as the ground sped past beneath her. Higher, into the clouds. Into the vaporous swirls that felt cold against her skin and then out again, closer to the speeding world of shadows below._

_Then the clouds ended, and under the light of the moon and stars she could finally see it. A village— no, a city, surrounded by an ancient wall. She didn't recognize the place, but the mountains in the distance were telling, as well as the banner draped over the section of wall on both sides of the gate; twin crossed sabers on grey. This was a city of Nimrienne, the country in the North. Maywich or Weselton, she could not say. Is this where Kristoff was?_

Anna blinked, and the vision disappeared. She was on Sven's back, clinging to his fur as they charged through the forest, Arendelle far behind them. The reindeer was grunting and wheezing but trying to keep a constant pace. She felt bad about pushing him, but remembered that she hadn't… Sven pushed himself. He wanted Kristoff back as much as she did. Probably even more.

Anna pulled herself closer onto the reindeer's back, as the trees were much closer together and the thicket grew more dense. Just ahead of them, a tall wall of shrubbery blocked their way but Sven would not have any of it and jumped right through. He let out a yelp as they landed, stems and leaves and broken branches clinging to his antlers. Anna did her best to clear them, conscious of the very real possibility of becoming unseated and falling to a likely perilous end.

She heard splashes as they entered a ford. The river Alta. It cut a latitudinal border between Arendelle and Karne, and following it would lead them straight to the North. Once they reached dry land on the other side, Sven did just that, taking the right and running on the narrow pathway that snaked parallel to the riverside. Anna put a hand on Sven's neck. The reindeer's pulse was incredibly quick, his breaths painfully ragged, his fur worryingly moist.

"We need to stop, Sven." Anna said, realizing just how dangerous the reindeer's condition was.

Sven shook his head, grunted, tried to keep running.

"I know you want to keep going, but you need to rest." she said, whispering the words into the reindeer's ear. She kept her voice soft, hoping he'd hear her over the billowing winds. "We still have a long way to go. If you hurt yourself, neither of us will be able make it to Kristoff."

Still Sven shook his head. He kept his eyes forward, always forward, as if he could see his partner through all the obstacles between them, many miles away. She reached out and placed a hand on the reindeer's snout. Closed her eyes, trying to communicate to him that she could help carry his burdens. That she wanted to help. If only she could see through his eyes, see what he could see. Suddenly, she felt an odd sensation wash over her, like a wave of warm water.

_A dark chamber, growing brighter, light from a lantern far away. A large chamber, with a small extension at the end. She walked towards it. Not just any extension, but what appeared to be a smaller room, separated by vertical bars of steel with a single body sitting against the wall within. Its head hung low, making Anna wonder if the person was dead, for they certainly did not notice her presence. If her presence was at all noticeable, of course._

_She breathed. The smell in this place was metallic, the air damp. She placed her hand on the wall, feeling the moist stone. Underground possibly, she thought. A dungeon then, of some sort? She traced the crack between two stones to the steel bars. _

_She moved closer, passing through the steel bars to see. Not enough light to get a look from her distance, even inside the cell. So she walked closer still. Squinted. And saw the messy hair, the blood on his cheek, the raw flesh on his wrists cut by the manacles that had been fastened too tightly, and then the eyes. Eyes that she could find in a crowd of a million pairs. Intensely brown, yet warm as well. And at this time confused, as they shifted and met her own. _

"_Anna?_" _Kristoff rasped, tears streaming down from his cheeks._

Anna gasped, jerked away, and then she was back. And she was falling.

* * *

><p>Contrary to what others may believe, Elsa was of the opinion that the world was <em>not <em>a small place. She didn't know how long they'd been travelling, as her mind often wandered, but the fortress seemed to be much farther than Councilman Valentin initially described. Anna and Sven had travelled east, following the road to Beyton and then, inexplicably, they went off road, travelling north of east, further into the untamed forest. They could not follow her in the carriage, but Treleir was in the direction Anna had gone so it was there that they were going, accompanied by a full squadron of hussars, some of which had gone forth to scout. It had been hours, and they seemed to be no closer to finding Anna than when they had first set out. They had trackers, and they had hundreds of riders. It was frustrating to think that even with all of that Anna eluded them.

"They couldn't have gotten far, Your Majesty." said Councilwoman Amira. Elsa noticed the woman's hand over hers, noted the redness of her eyes and then the bags beneath them. She looked away, feeling ashamed that it had come to this. Was she ever going to not be a burden to others?

"We don't even know where they're going." Elsa said, trying to suppress the panic in her voice. "All we know is that they're gone."

"We will know soon enough, once the scouts have returned."

Elsa drew back as Amira squeezed her hand. Physical touch, unless it was from Anna, was still so alien to her. She didn't know what to do here, found herself frozen. An odd irony, that. For a long moment, only the sound of the carriage's wheels rolling over small rocks and the proceeding bumps as the carriage tilted could be heard.

"Councilman Valentin has chosen the finest of our hussars for this task." Amira continued. "Our sharpest eyes and our sharpest minds. Fortune willing, the two will be returned by morn."

She was looking out of the carriage now, her hand— the one not currently over Elsa's—holding back the drapes that usually covered the small window on the door. Over the woman's shoulder, Elsa could see the dark outlines of trees. Another bump caused the carriage to lurch. Amira cursed, then apologized for it though Elsa paid no mind. Anna wouldn't come back, not until she had finished what she had set out to do. But if there was no Kristoff to bring back… what then?

"I'll have to speak with Councilwoman Syl about getting these roads paved." Elsa said, trying to distract herself. The panic attempted to overtake her, but she fought against it. All she needed to do was wait, and hopefully good news would come. "I imagine the increase in trade opportunities and efficiency will be worth the cost."

"Likely." Amira replied, finally taking her hand off of Elsa's. She breathed a sigh of relief, hopefully not so loud that the other woman could hear. If she did, she made no comment on it, continuing instead, "It would make trade between Karne and ourselves much easier. And would undoubtedly help our ability to mobilize our military, if it should ever come to that. I think the treasury will be able to absorb this hit very easily."

"Good." said Elsa, much softer than she wanted. She needed to be in control right now. She needed to show that she could be strong when required. She closed her eyes. Fought the panic. Fought the storm. They would be arriving at the fortress soon. "I'll write the draft and present it to the council during the next meeting."

"You don't have to present it to the council, Your Majesty." said Amira. "As you have the final say anyways, you can have it done right away."

Elsa shook her head. "I want to present it to them despite that." she said. "I would like to hear their thoughts, and adjust my proposal if necessary."

Amira nodded, slowly. Elsa could not tell if she was agreeing with her idea or not. The two of them, councilwoman and councilman, made for such an enigmatic couple. Elsa wondered about that. Love and relationships. Do people often end up with others that are like them, or opposites? In her limited experience, the former seemed to be the most common occurrence. And that gave her some pause. As far as she knew, there wasn't anyone like her. The only one who even came close was Anna, and Anna wouldn't be with her forever. One day Anna would get married, leave, and she would be alone again. Who would love her, then? Who would she love? So much of how the world worked was unknown to her. She held herself, squeezing her arms with her hands. _All those wasted years._

Amira hummed and Elsa turned to look at her. Amira met her gaze and smiled an exhausted smile. "We're here." she said.

_Finally,_ Elsa thought, looking out of the carriage through her own window. They had left the forest and were riding out onto a broad valley, the River Alta on their left. She let out a small breath as Treleir Fortress came into view. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. A flat structure, with triangular bastions composing a star shape expanded by a wide ditch with sloping stonework on its outermost face, almost entirely hiding the buildings within the curtain wall. An old structure, built almost two centuries prior, but still very impressive. It was well-maintained, with soldiers patrolling its perimeter even this late into the night. The path they rode on extended over a bridge leading to the open gates, before which stood a man with the honor guard, his uniform pressed to perfection with decorative medallions on his breast. The general and his men saluted as the carriage rolled up. Elsa followed Amira to greet the welcome.

"Your Majesty," said Jesbrikt Haraldson, tilting his head forward. "it is an honor to have you here with us today."

Elsa nodded solemnly. "I apologize that we could not meet under more desirable conditions, General Haraldsson, but we are in somewhat of a crisis at the moment."

The general closed his eyes, appearing pensive. Elsa studied him, the glow emitted by the nearby mounted lanterns proving adequate enough for a detailed inspection. By appearance, the man before her was impressive. Not a single crease on the uniform, perfect posture, crisp salute. Elsa wondered if this man knew her father. Or rather, knew him well. It had to be likely, as her father was the one who promoted the general to his current station in the first place. Yet he didn't seem as old as the number of medals he wore suggested. Younger than Valentin at least, and his rich black hair did not appear marred by the appearance of any grey.

"Yes, Councilman Valentin informed me before you arrived." he said. His grey eyes flashed determination. "I have sent my riders forth, searching North, South, East and West."

Elsa swept her gaze towards the east, past the river, and beyond the dark forest. She couldn't see it from where she stood, but from her knowledge of the geography of the land, the city of Walle, the birthplace of the highprince of Karne, would be seen close to the horizon. And then further south she'd be able to glimpse Beyton, the larger of the two, and the nation's capital.

"I can't imagine Highprince Floris taking the news of our outriders too well." she said. Of course, she couldn't really imagine the highprince doing anything at all as she had never met him and didn't know even what he looked like.

"I've sent riders to Walle, to notify the governor there of the situation." said Haraldsson.

Elsa nodded at him, thankful that the man at least knew what he was doing. Or seemed to. Elsa definitely did not and only pretended to be knowledgeable in much of the matters she found herself forced to deal with. That made her wonder if others were the same. Given her own struggles, she could not imagine others simply being able to remember and know all that they were expected to. Surely there was a limit to the amount of information the human mind could hold.

Behind them, there was a great deal of bickering. Councilman Valentin was very animated as he spoke to the captain of the cavalry squadron, apparently returned from the mission. They were both on horseback, and their mounts appeared equally as restless as the men riding upon them.

"Just gone?" said Valentin, throwing up his arms. "Vhalnar, you cannot simply say that they're just gone!"

The man called Vhalnar shrugged. "I am just conveying the information my scouts have brought back, Val. The tracks ended there."

"Tracks?" said Elsa, turning and stepping forward. "What tracks?"

"Your Majesty," said the cavalryman, appearing surprised. He directed his horse closer.

Valentin followed shortly after. "Vhalnar D'Arendelle, Captain of Cavalry." he said, gesturing to the man ahead of him. Elsa tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"My apologies, Queen Elsa." Vhalnar said. "We should have come to you immediately."

"That's quite alright, Captain. What tracks are you speaking of?" Elsa repeated. She felt as if she knew the answer already. What other answer could they give, especially on this night and given the circumstances? And yet, she had to hear them from their mouths. Had to make sure.

"Reindeer tracks." answered Valentin, with a slight nod. "A single pair."

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. At least they had something to go by. "Where are these tracks?" she asked.

Vhalnar pointed north, up and across the River Alta. "About twenty miles that way." he said. Elsa's heart sank. Why were they going north when Beyton was in the opposite direction? Elsa wondered if her sister had gotten lost, or had fumbled her bearings as she was wont to do. The moon and stars were smothered by the dark cover of the clouds. If Anna had gotten lost in the forest without any directions to lead her, it could be days before she got out on her own. Maybe weeks, even. They needed to get to her. But what weighed upon Elsa's heart were the words the squadron captain had spoken earlier.

"What do you mean by 'the tracks ended there'?" Elsa asked, bracing herself for yet another bout of bad news.

Vhalnar sighed, rubbed his greying temple. "I had our men search upstream past Aberman's Ford and discovered another crossing. Wider, deeper, but still very manageable for someone riding a mount. The tracks continued North from there, and went on for miles, sticking close to the riverside."

Elsa nodded while the man paused for a breath. That meant that the two had not lost their sense of direction. That they were deliberately heading north. For what purpose? To find Kristoff?

Elsa bit her lip. All that was north was Nimrienne and the Frozen Waste and the mountain range beyond. How could Kristoff have ended up in either of those places?

"And then," the man continued, "the tracks started to become deeper. The distance between each bound shorter. My men figured that meant the animal was slowing down. Tired perhaps. And then they came upon a large depression in the grass where the reindeer must have collapsed, and a smaller depression further away."

Elsa fought to suppress the gasp. To prevent it from escaping her lips. She failed. That and in many other ways. She failed.

"Anna…" she began, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Is she—"

Vhalnar shook his head, raised his palms. "No bodies. No sign that they had walked away. No drag marks. Just those two depressions, and that's all. They're just gone."

"Gone?" asked Elsa, unbelieving. "Are you saying they just vanished? That can't be true. What might have happened to them?"

"We don't know, Your Majesty." Vhalnar replied with a frown. "We don't know."

* * *

><p><em><strong><em><strong>Author's Note #2: <strong>_To make things more simple for the future, the four primary nations (primary as in closest in proximity to Arendelle are:**_

_**Oriarnis (South, AKA Southern Isles)**_  
><em><strong>Current Leader: King Godfrey Westergard<strong>_  
><em><strong>Capital City: Langarth<strong>_

_**Nimrienne (North)**_  
><em><strong>Current Leader: Grand Duke Dario Ferron<strong>_  
><em><strong>Capital City: Maywich<strong>_

_**Olinath (West)**_  
><em><strong>Current Leader: Emperor Onder Aznath<strong>_  
><em><strong>Capital City: Tegell<strong>_

_**Karne (East)**_  
><em><strong>Current Leader: Highprince Floris de Walle<strong>_  
><em><strong>Capital City: Beyton<strong>_

_**Also, I have character lists for all of these factions and will post them upon request if you are finding the growing list of OCs difficult to remember. And then you have other nations such as Corona, Volgan, etc that may also have a part to play in the future.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_Anna opened her eyes to falling leaves and leaves that twirled in a cyclone around her. One fell upon her dress—where it drooped in between her thighs— and was wide at the center, tapering to a slender point. This wasn't a shape she was familiar with. She had walked many times outside the castle and village gates and into the surrounding forest, both at night and during the day, and not once did she encounter a leaf such as this. Nor did she remember owning a dress like the one she wore; a fitted gown of plain white with a sleeveless overgown of red. She put a finger to her chin, trying to ignore the fact that her nails were painted a colour she didn't even know existed. The wind blew again, fanning her face, while the sun hovered above. Summer, she guessed, as large birds soared in the clear blue skies. She didn't recognize those, either._

_Her back rested against the trunk of a lone tree upon a hill, overlooking a road. Again, something she did not recognize. It was simple, made of stones with ditches on both sides for drainage. and led to two villages, both smoking. Tree stumps dotted the horizon to which fields of grass stretched, pockmarked with depressions, matchlocks, and coats of blue and white and the lifeless bodies they held. Something of great importance happened here, and recently. She could feel it. Her heart pounded, though she didn't know why. This had to be another vision of hers. Another figment of her imagination, somehow more vivid than the others, but imagined all the same. And yet, she had memories. Fragments of memories. Of where she had been taken, what she had been taken to, and who she had been before. She pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them with her arms._

_Across the field, something grew. A mass of men, marching in a wide and seemingly unending column, long barrelled muskets resting on their left shoulders. Left foot, then right foot, each pace was perfectly matched with every other such that the entire force appeared as a single unwavering unit. On both sides rode thinner columns of men on horseback. At the head of the army was a single man upon a white horse, fair haired, with a shining cuirass over his black uniform and yellow facings. His breastplate gleamed brighter than the sun itself. Anna raised her arms over her eyes. The light was blinding._

_Then she noticed something odd. A black mark, circular and small, where her forearm met with her elbow. More along the length of her arm in places where they shouldn't be. A lack of freckles on her shoulder too, and her hair was the wrong colour—black where it should have been her familiar strawberry red. She felt as if she had been drawn into the shell of another. Pulled from her real life into this one. She wondered where the other girl—the one to whom this body belonged— had been taken. If they had swapped lives, Anna could not help feeling like she had gotten the shorter end of the stick. The army drew nearer, close enough that she could see the gold cords hanging on the right shoulder of the one on the white horse, and the twin pistols belted at the front of his saddle. _

_Anna attempted to move away. To make an attempt to get behind the tree. She did not know if they had already seen her, but staying put did not appear to be in her best interest. She grunted, for the first time feeling the heavy weight against her shoulder. She turned her head, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her._

_Next to her, his head leaning on her shoulder, was a man, cross legged as she had been. A young man, whose face seemed vaguely familiar though she couldn't place a name to it. She reached out with a shaking hand, placing it on his cheek. She drew back immediately. He was ice cold and slumped to the ground as she moved away. A circular wound was on his breast. Dark, indistinctly red. His skin was purpled in some places, cut in others. A shocking sight, a sad sight. But what brought tears to her eyes was his hair, a platinum blonde, and the ice that covered the section of bark where his back had once been. She tried to scream but couldn't get the words out. Could barely muster the energy to open her mouth. Managed a squeak, drowned out by the bang of a gun being fired and the sound of a circular ball of lead embedding itself in her throat. _

She awoke in a bed, gasping, with sheets of white curled around her. There was a throbbing in her head and a cast on her left arm. Sweat dampened her skin and made the plain garment she wore uncomfortable. She sat up, adjusted her eyes to the darkness of the room, and blinked away pain as her gaze found the orange flame of a torch on a sconce set into the stone wall. The room was almost barren. A table, some ways away from the torch, with a cup of no longer smoking tea. Next to it and against the table rested a stringed instrument of some sort. She squinted, hoping that would help identify the thing, but instead found her vision further dimmed.

_Where am I? _She wondered, steadying herself with her free hand on the bed. It was soft, though not quite as soft as the mattresses back home, where idling in the position she sat in would be enough to cause her to sink into the cushions.

She remembered her vision and its ending, and she remembered falling. She didn't remember hitting the ground, or the pain that must have caused. That part of her memory was voided out and between then and where she found herself now, she thought about how many days must have gone by, and how much more suffering Kristoff must have endured. _And Elsa_, she realized, with a widening of her eyes. The last time she had seen her sister, Sven had just arrived and Anna mounted him almost immediately upon seeing the fur cap he clenched in between his teeth. Elsa shouted, continued to shout, but Anna was through the courtyard and out the gates too quickly for her words to even register.

_They must be out there looking for me now._ Anna thought. _Not only do they have Kristoff to worry about, but now they have to worry about me, too. And Sven._ She groaned. _Oh, I'm such a stinker!_

The knob on the door by the far corner of the room wiggled and Anna turned her attention to it. Within moments, the door swung open, and a dark figure stepped into the torchlight. Cloaked in black, it stared at her for what felt like an inappropriately long time. Then it approached, and Anna steeled herself. Pursed her lips, wore a look of defiance on her face.

"Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sit up straight. The cast made it difficult, weighing her down and keeping her pose uncomfortable. "And where have you taken me?"

The figure said nothing. Continued to stare. It advanced, its legs concealed by the long-flowing cloth. If it had arms, the cloak hid those as well. Finding herself with nothing to stare at, she decided to redirect her gaze towards its face, hoping that by staring long enough, she could somehow make out its features. It stopped right at the foot of her bed, then slowly, it turned towards the torch. Anna breathed sharply. Even as it stared straight into the light, she could not see what its wide hood obscured, only blackness. There was no covering or mask that she could see. It was as if to this person—if it was a person—light simply did not exist.

Then it exhaled. A long, rasping breath that culminated in the torch being put out, suffocated of all the air that it could feed on. Anna suppressed a cry as the room became engulfed in shadow. Nothing happened, though, for after another small moment had passed, the torch flared up again, and this time there were two figures in the room, the second with features more clearly defined than the first. He was shirtless, with orange skin. Serpentine tattoos slithered around his torso and upwards, ending at his left breast. He appeared to be without hair or wrinkles, though his face looked older. A man in his forties, at the least, Anna assumed.

"Do not frighten the girl, Illuventi." The second man said, sharp and accented by a vernacular foreign to Anna's ears. "You always do this."

"_Not always…" _the cloaked figure complained.

"Yes always." said the tattooed man. "To every guest."

"_I merely wished to test her mettle, is all._" rasped the first figure, raising its arms innocently. _"Can't be any harm in that." _ The voice was feminine, not at all what Anna anticipated. The woman—if it was one as Anna still was not completely sure—slid along the edge of the bed, stopping beside Anna. She knelt down, bringing her face closer and stopping just a hand's breadth away.

"What?" asked Anna, distracted a great deal by the woman's face, or rather, her lack of one. There was a wispy blackness in the folds of her cloak and Anna wondered if there was a person in there at all and if the cloak just served to give whatever it was a semblance of form.

"_Nothin', just havin' a look." _said the woman_. Or was it a girl?_ Anna thought. The tone had switched to something that almost resembled playfulness. _"I used to have the same colour of hair." _the woman or girl went on.

"Illuventi…" mumbled the bald man, as if the behaviour was commonplace. Tolerated, though not at all enjoyed.

"_She looks nothing like she used to._" Illuventi said. Her raised arms hovered around Anna's head, lifting her pigtails one at a time with hands covered by long and flowing sleeves. She traced a plait upward, then cupped her chin. Anna struggled with the urge to pull away, feeling the woman's incredible warmth through the dark fabric.

"Like I used to?" wondered Anna, aloud, once the woman drew back.

Illuventi turned her hood to face her and lifted her head as to speak. The man standing behind her lifted his hand, barking a command in a guttural tongue Anna had never heard. Illuventi turned to look at him, raising her shoulders, appearing to plead silently. Her companion shook his head. His lips formed a straight line and he seemed sorrowful. Illuventi stomped her feet, crossing her arms. Oddly, there was not any sound that accompanied the stomp. She paced the length of the room as Anna watched the scene breathlessly.

"_Oh Aris, just this once can't I stay?" _ said Illuventi, raising her voice. The sound was jarring, like like metal against a grindstone. She stood by the stringed instrument, the torch next to her flaring so brightly that Anna had to look away. The man named Aris shielded his face with his hand.

"You need to rest, Illuventi. After all these years, you know the nature of your curse!" He put his hand down, now staring flatly at the silhoutte by the flame.

Anna drew a breath. _Curse?_ She cried out, falling forward onto the sheets. The pain in her arm flared as the cast pressed against the bed and bore the weight of her chest. That was nothing compared to the sudden headache that afflicted her like an arrow lodged in her skull. _Born or cursed? _She heard a voice say. Gravelly and old. Wise and concerned. It was not her first time hearing those words or that voice, she knew. But despite all of her efforts, she could not fill in those critical blanks. Who spoke them? Where? When? Why? She laid on the bed, shifted onto her side to keep the weight off the cast. Her chest rose and fell quickly. She looked up. Illuventi and Aris had stopped speaking and now gazed at her curiously.

Aris exchanged a glance with Illuventi and then left her, moving to kneel beside Anna's bed. "Child, are you alright?" he asked, with that same thick accent from earlier. The man's eyes shone violet, seeming to dance.

Anna nodded her head, pushing herself off with an effort. The headache had abated, but she feared for its return. "I'm…" she began, feeling dazed at all that had happened, "Yes, I'm fine."

Aris pursed his lips, touching the back of his hand to Anna's forehead. He shook his head, muttered something indiscernible, and reached into his pocket. He retrieved a vial of clear liquid, which he uncorked and brought up to Anna's lips. "Drink this." he said.

Anna pulled her head back, eyeing the concoction suspiciously. "No way." she said, pushing the man's arm away with her free hand. "I am not drinking some mysterious potion given to me by someone I don't even know. I shouldn't even be talking to you."

Aris frowned, looking over his shoulder at Illuventi, who shrugged. "I saved your life. I'm trying to help."

Anna hesitated. She remembered the pain the headache had wrought. Would this potion prevent that? "What is it?" she asked, wiggling backwards so that she could lean against the headboard of the bed.

"It's an elixir made to combat the fever." He replied, shaking the bottle. "I devised it myself."

"Okay, but what's inside it. What are the ingredients?"

Aris laughed. "That is a secret, young one."

"_Not really._" Illuventi interjected.

Aris shot her a foul look, pushing the vial closer towards Anna's face. She leaned away from it. "I'm not drinking it until you tell me what's inside." she said, confidently. She attempted to cross her arms, pain shooting up the one bundled in the cast. She cried out, but compensated, sheathing her right hand beneath in her left armpit. _Close enough._

Aris sighed. "The ingredients are of my invention as well. You won't find them anywhere else." He paused. "In truth, there is really only one."

"One what? Ingredient?"

"Yes." he replied.

"Okay, well. What do you call it?"

Aris looked uncomfortable, drawing back his arm. He cradled the vial in his hands. Behind him, Illuventi laughed. Harsh, metallic. It might have sounded adorable once, Anna thought as she winced, but not anymore.

"_Just tell her, Aris._" Illuventi said. Aris looked away, his face flushed.

"It's magic water."

Anna blinked. _What?_

"_Ha! Now was that so hard?_"

"What do you mean by magic water?" asked Anna, enunciating the words carefully.

"_Now you _have _to tell her._"

Aris sighed. "Can you walk?"

Anna wiggled her toes, and lifted both of her feet in turn. "I think so." she said.

"Very well." Aris said. Illuventi squealed. Or rather, she shrieked, though Anna assumed that was the equivalent of a squeal for her. "I'm sure you have many questions." Aris continued, heading towards the door. Anna nodded, carefully lifting herself off the bed. She strode to the orange-skinned man and took the vial from his hand. She stole one last glance at its contents before downing it in a single stroke. Aris raised his brow, appearing surprised. "I may have the answers you seek." he finished, awkwardly, taking back the empty vial.

"You better." Anna said, itching at her cast. "Let's start with how long I was out for." She lifted her hand to her temple.

"Easy."Aris said. "Two weeks."

Anna's eyes widened. _Two weeks!?_

"Yes, you are right to be surprised. Believe it or not, a smashed skull is difficult to repair, even with magic."

_A smashed skull!?_

"Mhm. There is much to tell. But first, I must introduce you to the others." Aris turned and began to walk.

"The others?" Anna repeated.

"The _Vassancti_." he replied, stopping at the door. He twisted the knob, pulling it open. Illuventi glided past him, disappearing into the darkness the door had revealed. Anna heard the sound from earlier, when the cloaked woman had first entered the room. A rasping exhalation. And then a series of cracks followed by light, as torches caught fire along the length of the hallway, slicing through the shadows. "Your sister is one."

"Wait, Elsa's _here_!?" said Anna, walking to wear the man stood. She was barefoot, as there was no footwear to be found.

"No." said Aris, appearing thoughtful. "She doesn't even know we exist. But she will, when the time comes." He held his hand out beside the open door. "After you." he said.


	9. Chapter 9

Anna peered around the doorway, stealing a brief glance back at the tattooed man. She could feel Aris' eyes on her, hidden there in the darkness of the room they were leaving behind. Studying her every move, watching for something, it seemed. Anna didn't think he was a threat, but ever since Hans, she had to be careful, for things quite often weren't what they seemed at first glance. That brought out a laugh. At first glance, Anna had been shocked at the man's appearance and his tattoos reminded her of the trinket she had received from Gorvik, the one that formerly belonged to a snake cultist. Her laughter tapered off to nervousness. She wasn't getting sacrificed to some snake demon… was she?

She turned to look at Aris again, who had come into the light. He raised a brow. Anna waved then moved hastily into the hallway.

Illuventi had gone and the once-dark hallway now shone with the light of many torches, spaced evenly on both sides of the stonework walls. Turning, she noticed another hallway, torches unlit, with adjoining hallways along the length. Anna wondered how anyone could ever find their way around the place without knowing the layout by heart. _Maybe that's the point,_ she thought, humming.

The floor felt warmer than she expected. The torches might have heated them eventually, but it felt almost like it radiated heat; like it had it's own heat source or _was_ a heat source. Anna slid her feet across the rugged tiles. It would not fit in with the theme of Arendelle Castle, but she wouldn't have minded if stones such as these were installed in the hallways. And the torches! She glided to one of them, admiring the brilliantly burning flame. No smoke! She had heard of the old adage, _where there's smoke, there's fire_, but could there be fire without smoke? Another question for her to ask.

"Just follow the torches." said Aris, from behind her. That accent of his made Anna evermore curious of where the man had come from. He walked with his hands behind his back, his chest puffed out, and his chin pointed straight. His tattoos appeared to almost move in the flickering light. She wanted to guess Olinathi, but he looked like no Olinathi she had ever seen. They didn't have orange skin in the west as far as she knew.

"So your, um, powers." Anna began, wanting to strike up a quick conversation. She had so many questions, and a seemingly limited time to ask them.

"Yes, child? What about them?" came the reply. The voice sounded farther away. Realizing she had quickened her pace, Anna slowed until she walked alongside him. _Not a child,_ she thought, but advanced without voicing it.

Anna hesitated. She bit her lip, wrestling with her choice of words."When you said 'magic water', did you mean like… _Magic,_ magic?"

Aris turned to her, his face scrunched in confusion. "I'm sorry, magic what?"

"Just _magic._ Like my sister's magic." They came to a crossroads, in which two opposite hallways were lit by torch. Anna looked for Illuventi, but could not find her and faced Aris for guidance. He tilted his head to the left, and so left she proceeded.

"Ah," continued Aris, unbreaking in his pace. "I suppose yes. But I must clarify that it is not my magic."

Anna opened her mouth to reply but Aris hushed her with a raising of his hand. "More on that, soon." he said, as they turned a corner. The new hallway appeared almost identical to the one they had left, torches lining the walls with doors and adjoining hallways interspersed between them.

"Tell me about your visions."

Anna glanced at him, wondering how he could know about that.

"You murmur in your sleep." He added, confirming what Anna had suspected. "Things that a girl your age ought not to know."

She was wont to murmur at times. Elsa once recalled her having a hilarious conversation with an imaginary friend one of the nights that she had spent by her side. But those were dreams, not visions. Not that she could tell the distinction between them, anyways.

"I don't really recall anything that had me talking." she said. "But, you know how dreams go. They kind of have that tendency to just disappear on you." She laughed nervously.

"Is there anything you _do _remember?" Aris asked, as they made another turn.

Anna watched each torch as they went by, burning smokefree. She shuddered to think about the price and work needed to buy and replace each of them. Assuming they ever burned out, of course. Anna had long since decided that the place was peculiar, and reminded her all too much of Elsa's abilities and their frequent refusal to make any sense. They had walked halfway down the hallway when Anna realized that Aris was still awaiting her reply.

"Just one dream, before I woke up." she said. "It was a bunch of things I've never seen before."

"Such as?"

"Let's see… there were these leaves that were, you know, kinda wide and pointy at the same time?" She drew the outline in the air with her forefinger. "They twirled around in a circle, which was nice," she said, copying the cyclonic motion beginning above her head and down to her waist "and then one landed on my lap so I picked it up_. _I knew I had never seen it before because I've walked through almost every inch of our forest back home and not once have I seen those leaves." She patted her pockets, which were empty. "If I had a pen, I could probably draw it for you."

Aris shook his head. "No, that's quite alright. Beyond the leaves, is there anything else of note?"

Anna shrugged. "Oh, just a dead bodies and an army."

Aris was silent for a moment. He stopped walking, and Anna did as well. She had paused just ahead of him and now stood there awaiting some kind of reaction. Aside from the one she was getting, that was. Aris' eyes were closed, his chin still pointed forward. In the silence of the moment that passed, Anna realized that the torches weren't crackling either. She had an odd urge to touch the flames to see if they were actually real or not.

"Yes, that makes sense." Aris said, finally. He began to move and Anna followed. "Tell me more."

Anna wrung her hands. What was there to tell? She could barely remember much of the details herself. Some things stood out, but none of it seemed special. It reminded her of the nightmares she used to have back when she and Elsa were still close as kids. Those stopped when Elsa had gone into her isolation, a tiny blessing that did little to soften the pain that she had felt at the time.

"I was sitting under a tree," Anna began, "next to a man I felt I knew, but really didn't."

"The man, describe him." said Aris. "Please."

Anna nodded, giving him a smile. It was nice to have someone to talk to about these things for once. Even Elsa had seemed skeptical about them in the few discussions they'd had. As queen, she had her own problems to worry about, though, so Anna could forgive her. Not that she could ever _not_ forgive her. But still, Aris showed genuine interest and might just have the answers she hoped for.

"Um…" Anna tapped her chin with her finger, in an attempt to distract it from itching at her cast. "I can't remember his face, but his hair was blonde. Almost silvery."

"Like your sister's?"

"Yeah, a lot like Elsa's, actually." Anna frowned. The resemblance to Elsa was disturbing, especially considering the state the man had been in when she first laid her eyes upon him.

"Anything else?"

"Ice." she said, remembering. "There was ice on the tree. Which is weird, since it seemed to be summer." She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling suddenly hot. "That's all I remember about him."

Aris walked in front of Anna in silence. He turned another corner into a hallway made of a different kind of stone. Lighter, like marble, and sparkling. The other aspects of the hallway, the torches and the random doors, were the same. Anna wondered what was behind all of them. They must have passed at least three dozen doors since they left her room, and she had not seen a single window. A minute passed and Aris turned again, following the torches Illuventi had lit. At the end of the hall, there appeared to be a large space, barely visible. Anna peered around the corner as they passed, but could not linger long as Aris had gone ahead of her. The sheer size of the space was incredible, and there were doors on the inward faces of the square shape it formed.

"What is this place?" she asked, after catching up with Aris. The man had continued his steady pace, walking with his hands behind his back, the only sound to be heard being his sandals clopping softly against the floor.

"A city, formerly." he said. "We don't know it's name yet."

Anna hummed. She didn't know of any indoor cities in the lands surrounding Arendelle. She didn't even know indoor cities were a thing. "'We' being the _Vasimki—"_

"The Vassancti.

" said Aris, correcting her. "But yes. One thing you must know about us is we strive to reveal the secrets of the past. Particularly those of a time of great importance, when _sjels _roamed freely through the world."

"_Sjels..._ as in spirits?" asked Anna, remembering her old fairytales.

Aris bowed his head. "Though they weren't called that in their age, only now, when they are little more than ghosts. Remnants of a forgotten era. They were once so varied, taking names such as the _fae_, and the _enhorjnings, _and the _havfrue_, and the _alvenkin,_ and most important of all, the _verdenformers_. Or Worldshapers, in the modern tongue."

Hearing the names spoken aloud shuttled Anna into a flurry of visions that passed from scene to scene of the exotic creatures from her storybooks. From the long-horned unicorns and their healing light, to the faeries with their sparkling wings and their laughter that radiated mirth, and to the somber elves and their songs lamenting the past just as they were being lamented in the present. Then another scene, of grotesque creatures crawling through neverending forests, uprooting ancient trees as they passed. And another, of snakelike animals soaring through the sky on invisible wings towards the horizon. She gasped, clutching at her heart. It didn't hurt, but all of a sudden she had felt as if something was there.

Aris looked over his shoulder at her. "You've just seen them, haven't you." he said, a ghost of a smile lingering upon his lips. Anna nodded her head. "That is good," he continued. "It means your _sjel_ is opening up to you. It starts with visions and becomes more intimate from that point on. In time it may even reveal to you its name, such a powerful and precious thing."

"My _sjel?"_

"Yes, it is from your _sjel _that you derive your ability. Whatever it is."

"Wait, you mean I have _powers!?_"

"You think you do not?"

"Well, no. I just _see _things when I, uh, touch other things. As if I'm imagining where they came from. They're not real. They _can't _be." She gripped her shoulder beneath the sling of her cast, hugging herself close.

"Give me your hand." Aris said, holding out his palm.

Hesitantly, Anna extended her free fingers towards him, resting the tips of them over his. Aris' hand curled around hers. "Now do whatever it is you do." he said.

Anna blinked. Then she understood. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath; the same motions she had undergone when she held Kristoff's cap in her hand two weeks past. Just like then, she felt a rush of wind at her back and when she next opened her eyes she was in the air, soaring above the clouds. She brought herself down, through and below those billowing whites, expecting to see wherever it was she had been taken, and if Arendelle was anywhere nearby. In her descent, she found the land below her to be unfamiliar like many of the things she had seen since her fall.

The ground appeared dry and burnt, with stiff brown grass making for prickly terrain, extending in all directions and interrupted only by odd hills and a small town by an oasis. The houses of that town were tall and pointed, with white stones for the walls and gold for the rooftops. Scattered throughout the near empty streets were people with orange skin and headwraps, shirts worn by some while others went without. She moved in closer, towards the largest structure she could see. It looked like a flattened sphere, with perfectly circular walls and a floor that started high around the sides and sloped downwards towards the middle. There was no point of entry that she could see.

She hovered towards the platform by the side of the peculiar structure. There was a basin there, also empty. She set herself down on the wood, causing it to creak. A child below her, sitting in a pile of dirty cushions under the platform looked above, staring at whatever form she had taken. The little boy's eyes widened and Anna gasped. Her eyes shut and when she opened them again, she had returned to that torchlit place, with Aris by her side.

"What did you see?" Aris asked.

"I saw a town in a dry land, hotter than any summer I've ever been in." Anna replied, clutching her head. She could feel a headache coming onto her. The medicine she had taken had worked to alleviate them, but having another vision must have done something to wear it out, or cause the headache to exceed the medicine's threshold. _Magic water_, Anna reminded herself. _Not medicine. _

She looked at Aris, who was absently rubbing his chin. "Where have you taken me?" she demanded, feeling suddenly sick to her stomach. _Kristoff, Elsa…_ she had hoped they were not far away, but the vision she had was of a place she had never even seen; a land likely beyond the seas. How could she have been whisked so long a distance in such a short span of time?

"We have not taken you anywhere." Aris said, appearing surprised. "You are still between Arendelle and Karne and the North."

"But my vision—"

"What else did you see?"

"There was a _thing._ Like a giant bowl in the center of the town." the headache grew in intensity and Anna found it hard to concentrate. She grimaced, something Aris evidently noticed as right after she had done it, the bald man procured another vial from the pouch at his waist. It was identical to the one from earlier and Anna downed it hastily. The headache subseded shortly afterwards.

"What you saw is a place far away from here." Aris said. "It seems your powers are not what I suspected them to be."

Anna groaned inwardly. She'd been counting on her powers to help her find Kristoff, but she didn't get the result she expected this time, so how could she expect her powers to be right when it showed her the city Kristoff had been taken to? But she had seen him! That had to mean something. It had to!

"What happened to them?" Anna asked, wiping away a tear from her cheek that she couldn't remember shedding. "The _sjels_, I mean."

"We don't know yet." whispered Aris. The shadows on his face made him appear to be sorrowful. "But we get flashes sometimes, of scenes from long ago. Much like what you just experienced when you saw them for the first time."

The torches ended at a closed doorway, that last two being lit blue on both sides of the door. TIt was made of a dark metal, and in the place of a doorknob or handle was instead a clear panel. Aris placed his palm flat against it, closed his eyes, and waited. The panel began to glow iridescently, accompanied by the sound of shifting gears and disengaging locks. Aris removed his hand and Anna bent over to look through the panel as the glow began to fade. There was a crystal there in what looked like a glass box, embedded in a bar of golden metal etched with a pattern of markings.

"You might want to step back." Aris said, with a faint smile.

Anna yelped as the door swung open with a metallic creak, revealing a dark room lit sparingly by a slit in the door at the far end through which light filtered. Not orange, like the light of a fire, but faint and blue. Aris walked to it and Anna followed. He gripped the handle, and Anna made eye contact with him. "This may seem familiar to you." he said.

Despite Anna's puzzlement, he turned the handle and pulled open the door, revealing a stairway that led up to the open surface. _They were underground after all,_ Anna thought as she tiptoed up the steps which were warm to the touch. The air held no chill, an oddity given the most recent nights that she could remember. She peered over the ground as they ascended, taking in the sight of a village of almost perpetual darkness, hidden beneath a canopy formed by trees. Blue lights radiated from poles stabbed into the ground, glowing faintly, but enough for Anna to make out the cloaked and hooded figures that surrounded their point of ascent, and the leaf-shaped brooches pinned beneath their necks.

* * *

><p>Dario Ferron anxiously eyed the document in his hands. The letter sheet that once held it lay on the table by his bed next to his oil lamp, mud smearing one of its sides. It had been dropped during the journey, though fortune permitted that its contents were not harmed. It should not have been sent through the common courier, but delivered personally by a company of men.<p>

The roads had become more dangerous than the norm, an unfortunate side effect that accompanied the brewings of war. Even Dario, holding the ladle that stirred the bloody concoction, could do little about that.

Mercenary companies ran rampant between the two countries, offering their services at a ridiculous price while opportunistic riders strove to hunt down the very kind of courier that had been used to deliver the letter Dario now held in the hope of obtaining crucial information to sell to either combatant. The journey of a wayfarer could become treacherous if they were careless, and those on horseback were seldom spared. It could become worse, Dario knew. With standing armies established as the norm in all but the most stubborn of nations, the few remaining mercenary companies found themselves at a lack for work. The transition from a mercenary to a thug was all too easy.

Dario pushed himself back against the headboard and unfolded the letter hastily. A twice folded leaf of paper fell out of the group and onto the warm coverings that had been draped over his legs. He set the rest aside and grabbed at the stray. It was a map. The North Mountain had been drawn at the center—a newly discovered pass marked in red by its side, and to the east had been circled Treleir Fortress, curved arrows indicating possible points of attack. The River Alta snaked vertically down the right side of the map, with occasional horizontal arrows marking points of crossing, likely derived from old reports or hearsay. Not enough information accompanied any of the arrows to be of use to Dario, meaning he'd have to do the research himself. The fortress was old enough and renowned enough to have multiple works written about it. He should have a plan ready by the time of the siege.

He placed the map down and picked up the rest of the letter's contents. The first sheet listed troop placements, theirs and the enemy's with a number corresponding to their positions on the map. He skipped to the listing of Maywich, and on the map to the tundra that surrounded it. Two regiments there by Lake Pietro; the 1st and 2nd Royal Regiments, headed by Colonel Sanzari and Colonel Russo respectively. South of their position was encamped the 3rd Royal Infantry, along with the 1st and 2nd Royal Dragoons, in the prairie before the great forest. Sweeping to the right past hills and streams, Dario found Consola by the base of the lone mountain, Forlorn Peak. It was the largest of their towns and due to become a city soon. Count Desidario led the 4th Royal Regiment that was stationed in the barracks there.

And finally, to Weselton, southernmost of all their settlements, right along the border between Nimrienne and Arendelle near the curving mountain range that went up and over the northlands.

Dario grimaced. The Duke had advanced his regiment—the 5th—along the Alta, and had camped them at a fjord just outside the Arendellian encampments, poised to strike. Unlike the previous four, this had not been a part of their plans. He searched the remainder of the papers for some sort of an explanation. He found a handwritten note, signed by an _Adolphus Liberti._

Dario scanned the miniscule script quickly and frowned. More 'suggestions' for the campaign. _Buy more cannons!_ _Catch them off guard! Go for the queen! Be wary of the snowman! _Reading the letter further, Dario came to the sinking realization that his father-in-law was about to take his own advice, and move for a preemptive strike.

Dario crumpled the letter in his fist, wishing he could believe that Adolphus was merely jesting. Still, he felt sympathy. How could he not? There was a pain in those sentences that he had read. Every letter he received prior to the last month had been flawless in its penmanship, but now, for the dozenth time, the Duke's hand had wavered. Dario knuckles turned white as he clenched them, and he closed his eyes. The war they would wage was not about wealth or territory. Of those they had plenty. In all of Nimrienne, there had been only one Lilliani Liberti. Only one daughter for Adolphus Liberti and only one wife for Grand Duke Dario Ferron, and Elsa of Arendelle had taken her away.

"Lord Cirano!" Dario called, commanding one of the guards stationed outside his door to fetch the chancellor.

Cirano arrived within moments, wearing his belted robe of red and gold. A great chain hung from his neck. His mustache had yet to be waxed, but from the flusteredness evident in his expression, he was likely doing just that before the summons. Dario suppressed a frown.

"What can I do for you, Your Majesty?" Cirano asked, slightly out of breath.

"Send word to Count Desidario." Dario said. "My uncle is sending the 5th to attack. Have the 4th mobilise immediately to take control of the situation." Dario cursed twice. Once for the Duke for his recklessness, and once for himself for keeping the Duke in a position where his recklessness could hurt their cause. He swept aside the sheets that covered him, sending the papers flying into the air. He stood. "And ready my horse. Northwatch has defied me for far too long. I _will_ have the names that they hold."


	10. Chapter 10

Blue, red, and gold uniforms—two and a half thousand of them—flooded the plains of the long fjord that connected the Arendellian border to the sea, leaving a trail of trampled greenery behind them as they marched. From fertile and arable land, the field would become one of battle and drenched in the blood of war.

Adolphus Liberti listened to the _pump-pump-arum _of the drumbeats as the regiment followed the commands they conveyed. Each man seemed to have his own timing. Each seemed eager to own a miniscule interval in between seconds in which he would lift off and touch his foot to the ground and step towards the enemy before any other man in the regiment. It was all wrong, bespeaking of either their eagerness or nervousness. For many it would be their first taste of combat. What he had been given would suffice. That was his hope, at the very least.

What was it that cousin Maurice once said? _It is not good armies that win battles, but big ones?_ Adolphus felt he might have been off by a word or two but undoubtedly the gist of the message was when one side had more men and bigger guns, that side had the greatest likelihood to win. That knowledge felt good, as the workings of war seemed stranger to him than even the witchery of his enemy. And Maurice at times was a very clever man.

By his handbook's behest, prior to their arrival on the battlefield, Adolphus had arranged his men to form twelve divisions to march two by two along the dusty road connecting their fjord to that of the enemy. Each division, in column arrangement, was four men wide and fifty two men deep and spaced about twelve small paces apart from each other. Ten columns of the infantry marched ahead of the artillery batteries, which were flanked by the remaining two columns of musketeers who were likewise flanked by the baggage train that included the powder wagons and miscellaneous carriages with two flags of cavalry on the wings. Now, with the enemy arranged in a line before them several thousand paces away, he ordered that the columns wheel counter clockwise to deploy into their battlefield formation.

By the grace of the divine, he had been bestowed with great wealth. With it, he could buy many things, including cannons. And he did purchase cannons. Many, in fact, as well as men to commandeer them. He loved them. The cannons, not the men. They were loud and hurt his ears, but the destruction they could cause! He felt a moment of a giddiness. Well worth the noise and irritation of temporary deafness. Plugs could handle the noise quite well, but he would position himself such that they would not be needed.

He turned to the drummer at his side and barked a command. The persistent beat changed immediately from the slow and flowing andante to an allegro as rank and file began to form. He glanced at the notes clutched desperately in his hands, double checking the deployment. The fifty two men that made up a quarter of the tail of the first column now faced the enemy line opposite them. Fifty two files against however many the enemy had. _Or however few,_ Adolphus thought, knowing that the army he faced—if they could be called that—were little more than recruits. Those fifty two would be joined by fifty two more on their right flank and fifty two more for a total frontage of one hundred and fifty six muskets aimed at the enemy for each of the four battalions in the army.

The first division had been deployed with four ranks: fifty two men at the front, fifty two men six paces behind, fifty two more six paces behind them, and fifty two men six paces from the third to form the rear. Four ranks in total with a frontage of fifty two files, standard for a division of Nimrienne. To form a battalion would require three divisions, arranged side by side, and to form a regiment would require four battalions for a total frontage of 624 muskets. And that was just the first rank! After four firings, at least two thousand balls of lead would be flung into the guts of the enemy, a full thousand more than would be they all hit of course, which was never the case, but Adolphus liked to be optimistic about these sorts of things.

He squinted his eyes at the green uniforms from across the field that very nearly blended in with the green of the grass and foliage of the forest at their backs. They seemed so tiny to him, as if a single rolling cannonball could slaughter the whole lot. But even that would not be enough to quell the storm raging in his heart. No, it would take the death of the person responsible for Liliana's illness before that could happen. Maybe then could he mourn. He clenched his fist. If only he had killed _her_ sooner, Liliana may have been saved. He swept his gaze back to his army before his weakness could overtake him. For now, he needed to be beyond tears or sorrow. He had to focus on the task at hand. Set his mind on crushing the enemy. Avenge his blood and that which he held most dear.

Adolphus rubbed his gloved fingers together. Entwined them, stretched them, then he curled his mustache and adjusted his spectacles. The second and third divisions of the first battalion had joined the line and now the second battalion began to form. To that mass of men, Adolphus frowned. There seemed to be a disturbance with the first and second divisions. The men looked confused, as if unsure of their position in the battalion. _Blasted fool! _Adolphus thought of the man at the head of it all, waving his arms around like a buffoon. Gaetano Pavia, Captain of the Second Battalion, and a fool with the gall to ask for Liliana's hand in marriage. Through fortune's favour Liliana herself had declined his advances, otherwise Adolphus would have had to devise a much harsher means of rejection. He should have demoted him earlier. _Stop thinking about her! _He pinched his arm and clenched his teeth, trying to appear patient despite each additional delay.

Full deployment took about four hours in total. By then, the three distinct lines had been formed in the Nimriennian army, each ahead of the other by roughly three hundred paces: the vanguard consisting of the artillery, heavy cavalry, and half of the infantry; the main battle, consisting of the other half of the infantry and supported by flags of dragoons—infantry on horse; and finally, the rear guard, significantly smaller than the others, and consisting mostly of the reserves. Adolphus was positioned in the main battle, on the far left flank with his drummer boy Fedro who listened fervently for any command Adolphus would give.

Still, four hours was an embarrassment and almost double the regimental average. Lacking for a pen, Adolphus instead jotted down a mental note to berate his captains afterwards for their battalions' evident lack of discipline. Within the time they had taken, the enemy had already been set, their lines formed, their artillery primed for fire, and the only advantages Adolphus had remaining were of numbers and the quality of their guns and even then only the former advantage could be taken as a certain to be true. Still, he hoped that would be enough.

"Forward march!" he shouted, and the drummers picked up their pace as the four battalions advanced. He did not have to say much the rest of the way, as he had relayed his route of approach to the four captains of his battalions beforehand. That and the approach was a straight line. If they could not do even that, then their fate was grim indeed.

Adolphus dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. Their host moved slowly, but in unison. The enemy host lay in wait, the green of their uniforms lost against the green of the forest backdrop while the noonday sun watched in the center of the sky with the dark-winged birds. Adolphus watched the men in the vanguard tense as distant plumes of smoke erupted from the enemy position followed by the screams of solid shot slicing through the air. The large lead balls bounced harmlessly on the grass far from their marching host. Being large and cumbersome things, it would take some time before those cannons could fire again. The march went on with the men moving noticeable slower than before while some of his own artillery batteries turned to make for nearby hills and any kind of elevation to return fire upon the enemy.

At two hundred and fifty paces away, Adolphus signalled for a halt. The drumbeats ceased, though the cannons still boomed. A plume of smoke, and then screams as a nine pound iron shot barrelled through the vanguard. Adolphus wince. Aside from that unfortunate mishap, the majority of Arendelle's cannonballs struck the ground away from Adolphus' regiment while most of Adolphus' cannons soared over the emerald host and into the trees. Clearly both armies were terrible at manning their guns. _We won't be getting anywhere at this rate,_ thought Adolphus just as the army of Arendelle began to march forward.

"They mean to charge us?" asked a voice to Adolphus' left. _Blast, Macario! _He turned, having forgotten that the first battalion captain had been standing with him. Meeting the wiry man's icy blue eyes sent a chill down Adolphus' spine that he could only hope did not show on his exterior. _What a disconcerting man._ He thought, raising a brow at the captain's inquiry. Thin, barely visible lips. A ghastly pallor emanating from his visage. If death were a man, he would look just like Ultimo Macario, but probably less pale.

"They're fewer than we thought." Macario said, eyes watching the still-halted men as the enemy began to surge from the forest and towards the Nimriennians. Adolphus said nothing, focused on his observation. The enemy army drew closer.

"What do you suppose is the distance between our men and theirs, Captain?" Adolphus asked.

Macario hesitated. "A hundred and ninety paces, give or take around ten."

"And what, Captain, is the maximum distance for an accurate shot with a flintlock for a sufficiently trained man?" The question had no real meaning. Part of him just wanted to test the man. The other part wanted to make sure he had the numbers right.

"Um, a hundred and twenty paces, sir."

Adolphus nodded.

"Maybe a bit shorter, given the stresses of battle." The captain replied. His voice held a heavy strain.

Adolphus reached into his pocket and pulled out his notes. He flipped open the papers detailing their carried armaments and read the contents. '_A soldier's musket, if not exceedingly badly bored will strike the figure of a man at eighty yards or even one hundred.' _That, if converted, made the equivalent of ninety six and a hundred and twenty paces. Just a little further then. The question, should he wait until the enemy closed upon the lower end of the range, or the higher? He looked back at the approaching lines of men. Smaller than his by half at least. Being the recruits that they were they would likely flee at the face of fire, no matter what the range. The higher, then.

He waited, then, "Fire!" he shouted. "Tell them to fire! All of them, I want a complete volley!" An unusual tactic, usually frowned upon actually. To fire all your guns at once meant that you would leave yourself vulnerable to your enemy. The handbook chided generals who did this. But Adolphus knew better. He could see the army arrayed before him. A pitiful thing, full of greenlings. A single volley would do.

Captain Macario paused for the slightest of moments then turned and shouted to his battalion, "Fire! Full volley!" The lieutenants and corporals of each division as well as the captains and officers of other battalions relayed the command along the line and the entire mass of men swung their muskets into the firing position. In the brief calm before the thunderous storm of gunfire, the marching Arendellians fell forward, laying face down in the grass.

"Stop!" shouted Adolphus, too late. His voice, coarse and filled with dread became drowned out by the thunderous roar of two thousand muskets fired in unison. The forest before them rippled, branches ruined, trunks desolated by iron and lead, their leaves cut to shreds. In the silence that permeated the moments that followed, he could barely speak. The Arendellians stood up. Slowly, but deliberately. Their faces were hard masks, but none were harder than the man in the far right flank, with gold threads hanging from his shoulder and a sabre at his waist. Adolphus squinted. He _knew _that man. Saw him a month before, at the coronation. _Jesbrikt Haraldsson._ The name came back to him ominously. By Devora, what was the _general_ doing leading a pack of younglings? His mouth opened and closed and the Arendellian army formed a tight line, swung their muskets in turn, and held the position.

The Nimrennian vanguard bristled, struggling to reload their muskets. In the face of return fire, such a task was nigh impossible, especially without the cover fire that the other ranks should have provided. Beside him, Macario cursed.

"Blast, Macario!" Adolphus screamed. "Tell them there's no time! Fix bayonets and charge!"

The message was relayed and the men, with shaking hands and shaking courage, retrieved their blades from the pouch against their thighs and socketed them on the side of the flintlock barrels. The Arendellians were close. The enemy stopped. They shifted, opening a gap in between their ranks. Cannons rolled through the pathway, into the front. The first line fell to the knee. The second line bent forward. The third line stood straight and firm. They lifted their muskets and the man with the gold threads spoke again. Guns roared. In the corner of his eye, Adolphus could see the horsemen riding out from the trees. They held their sabers high. Somewhere in the ranks there rode a woman upon a white horse dressed in the lightest of blues and despite the clear skies, it began to snow.

* * *

><p>Elsa had never killed a man before. She had never seen a man killed. She'd heard of men being killed, and had been no stranger to death. When a notorious criminal had been captured, many many years ago when she had felt real actual warmth, her father forbade her from attending the hanging. Not a sight to be seen, for a girl so small, he had said. It had been before her entrapment. Her isolation. She defied him then, for the first and only time she could remember. Running through the gates, across the bridge to the center of the town where a crowd had gathered to watch. She didn't see the man die. It had happened before she got there. But seeing him hanging from a noose made her regret her choice. She knew a man's neck was not supposed to stretch that way. Tears welled and rolled down her face, then, and she returned to the castle with eyes that were puffy and red. She knew the secret entrances. No one else knew that she knew, and for a long time she kept it that way. She came into her room, hid beneath the many covers upon her bed, and tried to forget. Such things are not easily forgotten.<p>

And now she looked upon the man on the floor. To this, she was a stranger. His legs were bound by a sheet of ice that she had cast. On his chest was a large red blossom, seeping through his clothing and through the dirt beneath him. He had been unable to move because of her ice, and had been shot moments later. He had brown tousled hair. His thin mouth hid behind a fierce beard. His eyes were strikingly blue. The sight of him was grisly, but she didn't bother looking away. She wouldn't be able to forget his face. Not this time. There were many more. Too many. But it had to be done. Their lives or hers. Their lives or her people's. Their lives for Anna's.

She walked. Held her head high, and tried not to look at any of the bodies. Enemy or ally, dead men all the same. Terrible sights. And Elsa found her mind wandering off, seeking some form of solace within the memories that now came to her so very often.

_This time the memory was still relatively fresh, from close to a month ago on a night when it was raining. She had been trapped indoors, unable to escape the monotony that was most of her evenings. Her room, all too familiar to her, was messy with the scattering of books on her bed and on the floor. Boring tomes for the most part, speaking of trade between nations, the subtleties of politics, and commentaries on battles fought so long ago that she would've thought them irrelevant. It was all research, to prepare her for her new duties as queen, assigned to her by the council upon her request._

_She'd been reading the whole day, not even coming down for meals which had to be brought to her, and her sister was always the one who brought them. Elsa would apologize profusely, but Anna would wave, tell her, "It's what sisters do." before asking about what she was reading and then taking off again, the sound of her humming bouncing off the walls._

_Dinner came, and Anna had brought her a plate of the dish of the day, wearing a sour expression on her face. Elsa raised her brow, nonchalant, and reached out to take the food from her hands. She froze once she saw what was on the plate. It was a freakishly large squid, sunk deep into a dark soup with floating pieces of garlic rising to form an outline around the unfathomable creature. Elsa blinked at it, then met Anna's eyes._

_"No?" the princess asked._

_Elsa was reluctant to refuse, but didn't have much of a choice. She did not like squid. It must have been common knowledge_ _throughout the castle by now, given the number of times she'd refused it through the years. And yet there it was, sizzling at her, begging to be eaten. The smell was actually not repulsive to her, but she would not be fooled._

_"No." she said finally, getting up from her soft bed. She slipped her feet into cozy slippers and took the plate—gently, as she did not want it to spill all over her floor—and made for the door. Anna followed behind her. The nightgown she wore was of the most mildest blue she had in her possession, which would make even her favored day gown seem fierce in comparison. These were not the garments of a woman going to war. And yet, they were._

_The two had proceeded down the stairs, well lit by a crystal chandelier above them and into the kitchen, filled with cooks. They looked at her, saw the plate she held, and collectively and amusingly grimaced. They paved the way to a young man wearing a chef's hat, who stirred a pot of squid soup, singing to himself. It took a fellow's tap of the shoulder before he realized he was in the presence of the queen and the princess of the kingdom. _

_One look at their faces. One look at the uneaten soup in the bowl in her hands. That was all it took for all the color to drain from the young man's cheeks. She remembered giggling. Anna too. So closely entwined was their laughter that they could have been mistaken for one to someone listening through the wall in the adjoining room. _

_T__hey sat down at a table in the dining hall to wait for a new meal to be made. Unknowingly, she still carried her soup. Anna began to talk, speaking of her day's adventures. The new trinkets she had bought, and the odd things that happened whenever she had touched them. So mesmerized by her sister, she did not even notice as she lifted the spoon out of the soup and brought it to her mouth. That was the first time she'd eaten squid soup in years, and it tasted oddly sweet. But that also could have been Anna's doing. She had a knack for making the things around her better than they were._

Could she make this better? Elsa bent down, touched the temple of a man struggling to breathe. His arm had been shorn off during the battle. He had lost a lot of blood. There was nothing to be done. She closed her eyes, and let her magic flow out of her finger tips. The man shuddered, then fell still. Nothing. Still she felt nothing.

Away from the man, she turned towards the field, where her army walked among the dead, collecting guns, hauling away cannons and horses and anything with value. A group saw her and moved to meet her. She waited. The general and his men brought with them a prisoner, arms bound behind his back. A broken monocle hung from the collar of his coat and a cut marked him beneath his left eye. He didn't make eye contact and refused to speak. Elsa didn't blame him. His daughter was dead, and it was her fault. She supposed that meant losing Anna was her fault, too. Anna. Sweet Anna. She missed her so much.


	11. Chapter 11

It is one thing to look upon a dead man and another to look upon a man that is broken. Of course, that would require definition of the word broken, which when describing men could mean many things. Adolphus Liberti was broken, Elsa could see that plainly, but the things that defined his brokenness could not be said with much certainty. It was just a feeling she felt when she gazed upon him. The cut on his face, the gash on temple, and the twist of his leg. With his face on its side against the grass, knees pulled in and arms tied behind his back with a rope that left reddish marks on his wrists, he might as well have been dead, too.

For him, the battle had been a disaster. He had lost a great number of his men, and what remained of his forces had been routed, leaving him and many behind. His pride would likely be shattered in the face of such a grievous defeat. But these things alone—separately or together—might not constitute a broken man. Cuts heal, broken bones can be repaired, and even pride can be regenerated given enough time and yet a man could remain broken. What constituted the Duke of Weselton's brokenness was something else entirely. It was the distant look in his eyes, staring far away. It was the sound of his sobs, dull and dry, unaccompanied by long since depleted tears. Elsa wanted to pity him. No one should cry so much that it would come to this.

The sight held an acute familiarity that unnerved her. She turned from it.

General Haraldsson coughed. "What do you want to do with him, Your Majesty?" he asked, gesturing to the Duke.

She shrugged, keeping her back facing him. "Send him back to the castle, and have the council decide." She didn't dare risk showing her face.

She couldn't see if the man nodded before he marched away, but knowing his type—silent and obedient—she had no doubt that he did indeed nod. It would be rude not to acknowledge a monarch's reply in _some_ form. Even so, that did not make what she did right. She knew he didn't deserve the way she treated him. For her father to have appointed him general at such a young age, Elsa owed him _some_ respect—even more so given his prowess. But then again she owed many people many things. So she walked away instead. Gathered men murmured behind her. If she cared, she would have focused and listened, trying to catch their words, but no, she was beyond even that.

She found her horse at the edge of the forest where she had dismounted after the majority of the fighting had been concluded. She placed a hand on his snout and he whinnied at her touch, jumping and bouncing. Somehow, he _liked _her. The idea that someone or something would actually feel joy in her presence seemed so alien now, even if it _had_ only been a couple of weeks.

She smiled at him, feeling suddenly grateful. She searched for ways to thank him for his good work, and maybe offer some kind of treat but unfortunately, she had neither voice to speak nor reward to bestow. Instead, she simply brought his head close her chest and draped her arms around him in an embrace. She could barely feel its warmth, but his closeness comforted her all the same. The horse did not pull away. It sniffed at her clothes, and she patted its head apologetically. She held the position for a silent minute before mounting him. Caspian was his name.

* * *

><p>It was a long ride back to the encampment, but Elsa had been in no rush. There were two; one for the main force and one for the flanking force. The former had been positioned by the fjord, with a trail behind and an open space before them. It providing dual means of escape in the event of an attack as well as a defensible location in which cannons could be mounted at points above the encampment to pepper carnage upon any force that wished to strike there. The encampment for the flanking force had been positioned in a more secluded location, beneath a patch of trees in a neighbouring fjord. Coordinating the time of Nimrienne's attack had been a very delicate matter, but it paid dividends in the end.<p>

She reached the latter encampment by the time the sun began to go down. The layout of it all was simple. Officers' tents on the northern end of the camp protected by a fence of barricades—her own tent was central to that area, line infantry in the south, cavalry south west near the stables, makeshift mess halls in the center. The storehouses—or rather store_tents_— they kept in the east, spaced far enough away to prevent casualties in case something went amiss with the powder wagons.

She found her pavillion at the precipice of night. The general stood outside waiting for her with two of her Evergreen Guard.

"Your Majesty." he said, saluting crisply. The guards did the same.

"General." Elsa replied, with a small nod. "Will we be returning to Arendelle tonight?"

Jesbrikt shook his head. "I think it would be better if we gave the men some time to recuperate. It was a fair victory, but killing batters body, mind and soul."

One of the guards murmured, clean-shaven, with mousy brown hair and appearing to be in his late twenties. The older, gruffer-looking and fully bearded man beside him nudged him hard in the ribs. The younger yelped. Elsa ignored them.

"Very well." she said, after a time. She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion. Nausea followed when she opened them again. She tried not to let it show but as she stepped toward the tent her head began to spin and she lost her balance. Jesbrikt caught her arms before she could fall.

"Thank you." she said, grimacing. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Yes." Jesbrikt replied. The torches did well to illuminate one half of his face, and it was clear he wore a frown.

Elsa put a hand on his arm and he let go. "Are you well, Your Majesty?" he asked.

_No_, Elsa wanted to say. _I am not well. I have killed more men today than I have spoken to in my entire life. I murdered the wife of a monarch without even knowing._ _I let my sister ride out into the night and now she is gone. Because of what I have done, there is war. There is blood and death and cannonfire. I have made corpses, widows, and orphans, and I have desolated wild places that once were serene. And despite all of this I feel _nothing. _What sadness and regret I held has gone to my sister and all I am now is empty._ _I am the opposite of well, General. _

But instead she said, "Yes. I'm fine."

And to that, Jesbrikt said nothing more, only nodding in the way he was wont to do. He saluted once more, then turned on his heel and disappeared into shadow, leaving her standing beneath the torchlight. She watched as his already faint outline became swallowed up by others that passed him along the way to where he was going.

She didn't think anything for a long while, instead looking silently westward. The forest stretched in that direction for miles until it came to an end by the sea. Her long shadow pointed southwest, towards Arendelle. Towards the castle. Towards home. She stepped backwards into her tent, past her guards, and kept going until she reached her bed. The force of it against the back of her knees pulled her down into its softness, into the caress of—

Elsa froze. She turned her head and spotted immediately the eye-catching fuchsia of Anna's discarded cloak and all at once all that she could not feel came over her like a waterfall opening above her head. Overcome with emotions from all the wrong places on the spectrum, she pulled her knees up to her chest and held them, sobbing silently. There was no one around her to watch, the guards wouldn't dare barge into her room but she stifled the cries and screams that would give them reason to. With the waterfall of regrets and doubts falling stronger than they ever have in the past, Elsa found herself drowning, unable to breath, remembering that fateful day almost exactly one week before.

* * *

><p><em>They were still at Treleir Fortress, minutes before the sun would peek above the horizon. She wore her nightgown and her hair was a tangled mess, and the room was dark save for a light that shone just brightly enough to illuminate a table and those gathered around.<em>

"_Any luck?" she had asked, bending over to peer past the shoulders of Amira and Valentin both. They sat before the long table with papers stretched over the entirety of its surface. Maps, letters, surveys, troop details, books. It looked so messy. So unkempt. Yet, she did not doubt that the two before her would be able to find precisely what they needed whenever they needed it._

_"Unfortunately not." said Valentin, shaking his head slowly. The man's voice drawled, and it became apparent to Elsa that he'd stayed up the whole night. The oil supply for the lamp at the center of the table was nearly depleted._

_"We've scanned this part of the forest." he continued, pointing at a section on the map before him. The stick-like trees represented forested ground, and Elsa followed his finger as it drew a large circle around a particularly dense location. "And here, around the tracks." he moved his finger to another location, drawing a smaller circle. "And here." Again, a new location. A new circle._

_"Still no sign?" Elsa had asked. She remembered her voice being a whisper, but it may have been louder than that. A sob perhaps, converted into speech. After a whole week, she'd kept up her hope, feeding its fire with memories of Anna. Of all the obstacles she had been able to overcome. Anna, conquering of winter, could not lose to a forest. But Elsa knew Valentin's answer before it came._

_No._

_That was morning. The sun rose, and Elsa's hope began to melt like snow._

* * *

><p>What followed; the rider and the letter and the bloodied cloak, her body decided it would be better for her not to relive and she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.<p>

When morning came, it brought with it light and the pungent smell of meat cooking over a fire. Elsa opened her eyes and rubbed her palms against their corners, scrubbing away the crusts that had formed overnight. She sat up and Anna's cloak slid off of her. Blinking, she stretched, stood, stretched some more, and changed her dress. It didn't matter what kind she wore, or what colour. With a flourish of her arms she changed her new dress to match what she usually wore. Light blue with crystalline fabric, fitted perfectly to her dimensions. Magic, sometimes, was a wonderful thing. She yawned.

"Your Majesty?" A voice called from beyond the fabric of her tent.

Elsa stood up, walked to her desk and draped Anna's cloak over the back of the chair tucked beneath it. "What is it?" she replied, stifling another yawn.

"Breakfast, Your Majesty." Came the voice again. She shut her eyes, trying to remember the name. Argen? Argus?

"You gotta tell her what it is, Arrick, you loaf." said a second voice. Gruff, deep. This one's name was Cendarsson. The two guards from last night. They should have changed shifts by now.

"Um, well, we have bread… mutton soup… A carrot?"

"Wait, let me see that."

A thump. "Ow!"

"The hell you bring a whole carrot for?"

"That's quite alright." Elsa called. "Just bring it in."

She faced her mirror and was brushing her hair when Arrick walked in, awkwardly holding the tray of food in his hands. She smiled at him from her reflection and his cheeks became dyed a deep maroon as a result. As a member of the Evergreen Guard, he was among Arendelle's elite warriors. However, that didn't mean he couldn't be awkward and clumsy and clueless. He brought the tray up to her, holding it as if he meant to pass it on. Elsa raised an eyebrow at him, holding the end of her hair in one hand and the brush in the other.

"Sorry about the carrot?" he said, smiling apologetically. He raised one arm to rub the back of his head—a habit of his—leaving one arm to bear the weight of the tray and the food. Indeed there was a bowl of soup there, along with a loaf of bread, cutlery, napkins, and a whole carrot. No drink, but that did not concern her much. She kept her own beverages. He lowered the tray slowly onto the table.

"Thank you, Arrick." she said, flashing him a winsome smile.

It normally wasn't a guard's duty to bring her meals to her, but her guards in particular were a special sort. Screened personally by Samuel, it was their duty to ensure her safety in all situations.

Sometimes Samuel took the most devoted, the most loyal, and the least likely to betray the throne. Those took it upon themselves to ensure not only maximum safety for her, but also maximum comfort. They didn't have to do those extra things, such as bringing her food and amenities—true, Anna had provided many of those herself— and Elsa had told them that much; several times, actually, to no effect. Eventually, she decided it would be best not to look a gift horse in the mouth and took it for what it was. Loyalty.

Even so, she felt that she owed it to them as well to rule to the best of her abilities. To be fair, and wise, and every single thing her father was, for she knew much of their loyalty stemmed from goodwill passed on to her by her father. If only things weren't so… complicated. She shot a glance at Anna's cloak. No more tears left to shed at the moment, but when night came again she knew that would change. It was funny how nighttime which once brought her comfort and solace now brought her the opposite; discomfort and the overpowering feeling of being alone.

She nodded to Arrick, giving him leave to depart, and pulled out the chair. She sat down and closed her eyes, whispering a quick prayer for Anna. Finished, she sighed, picked up her spoon, and began to eat.

Outside, many of the men were already beginning to pack up the camp. Pitched tents folded up and carried to the baggage train, green and yellow flags dismounted from their poles, belongings gathered, meals served, soldiers roused. The men were in a considerably better mood than the morning prior. All had known the numbers of the Nimriennian army and all had heard of the renown of their colonels. And although it had been the lesser of those that they had to face that day, that did not change the fact that the enemy outnumbered them two-fold or that it would be but a single wave in a fiercely gathering storm. However, General Haraldsson had orchestrated a rousing triumph against the enemy, and the sweetness of victory did well to numb the minds of his men towards the pleasantries of the moment and away from the foreboding thoughts of eventual defeat.

Elsa was greeted at the front of her tent by two unfamiliar guards stationed on both sides of its entrance. Apparently, Arrick and Cendarsson had finally allowed their shift to end. They wore the same uniform as the former two that were stationed there. The colours of Arendelle stood out on their coats—dark green with yellow facings—well-pressed and bright as if it were new and recently unworn. Rapiers were sheathed at their hip along with their standard flintlock pistol. In their hands, with barrels resting against the tops of their shoulders were rifled muskets. They saluted her crisply, and she nodded in reply.

"At ease, gentlemen." she said, and they lowered their salutes.

"Where is Captain D'Arendelle?" Elsa asked the man on the right, whose laugh lines made him appear more approachable. He looked thoughtful for a moment, lowering the hand that cupped the butt of his gun just slightly.

"Ah, I suppose he's over by the stables, Your Majesty." he said, motioning with his free hand across the breadth of the camp, past the array of tents that housed the army. "Prolly tending to the horses. Always in the morning he does that, I hear."

Elsa hummed. "Very well. Thank you…?"

"Piet Orfinsson, Your Majesty."

Elsa smiled. "And your name?" She turned to the other guard.

"Gorm, Your Majesty."

The corner of her mouth quirked. "Just Gorm?" she asked.

Piet laughed, a clear and merry thing. A laugh to be envious of, for sure. "Oh, he has a surname, Your Majesty. Just doesn't like using it because he thinks it destroys his big, tough image."

Gorm's face reddened.

"Well, what is it?" Elsa said, curiosity piqued. She smiled at him, holding it until he relented.

"Dahling." he said, begrudgingly. "Gorm Dahling."

"_Gorm, darling, whilst thou please fetch me some tea?_" Piet teased.

"That is enough, Piet." Elsa said, shaking her head. She met Gorm's eyes."That is a beautiful name, Gorm."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Gorm replied.

Elsa gave a curt nod, then turned towards the direction of the stables. "Come, accompany me." she said. They would have, regardless, but at least now they knew they'd be welcome.

While she would have preferred to walk alone, she realized quickly that it would be to her benefit to be seen conversing amongst others in the camp, so when Valentin suggested that she always have an escort with her when she moved through the camp she didn't relent. Better to forge her own image—even if it wasn't entirely accurate—then to let others decide it for her.

"This is my first time seeing either of you." Elsa said, after a few silent minutes of walking. A group of men eating by a fire saluted at her, and she waved back. Members of the Queen's 1st Royal Hussars. She rode alongside them during the battle. Good, respectful men. Elsa couldn't help but commend Vhalnar's choices.

"We just got sworn in last week, Your Majesty." Gorm said. "It took us longer than expected to get here."

"Ah yes indeed." said Piet, hefting his musket against his shoulder. "Not much a man can do when the sky hurls lightning at him and turns the very ground beneath his feet into murky brown porridge."

"Late for your first shift... not good, gentleman." said Elsa, a wry smile flashing across her lips.

"Our apologies, Your Grace." said Piet, sounding mournfully sad. "It shan't happen again."

Elsa chuckled. "And I suppose the next time the sky hurls a bolt of lightning at you, you'll catch it and hurl it right back? And when the ground beneath your feet becomes porridge you'll turn it into stone?

"Don't make promises you can't keep, either." she finished.

Gorm groaned. "Swear my wife tells me that everyday…"

"She's a wise woman, then." Piet said.

"Yes, I suppose she is. Not that she ever lets me forget it."

Elsa turned away from the conversation to survey the camp. The process of packing up all of their things was nearing completion. Camp followers, soldiers, and officers, all were getting ready for the long march back to the fortress.

"Here we are, Your Majesty." Piet said.

Elsa spied the stables as they turned around a block of still unpacked tents. It wasn't grand by any means, being only temporary, but looked well-kept enough that the horses themselves appeared to be happy. Food and water supplied regularly along with handlers that actually cared for the animals would do that.

She found Vhalnar where she expected him to be, tending to his horse.

"We have a long ride ahead of us, Pip." he was saying, stroking the horse's brown mane. He held a carrot out, and the horse grasped it in its mouth, chewing promptly. The bay thoroughbred was quite fond of those.

"Your Majesty." Vhalnar said, turning to Elsa. He bowed, showing briefly the graying roots that began to encroach upon his mostly brown hair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Elsa tilted her head gracefully. "I have a request of you, Captain."

Vhalnar rubbed his gloved hands together then, with one, patted Pippa on the head before walking closer to Elsa and her guards.

"I need to borrow a squadron of your hussars if you can spare one."

Vhalnar looked suddenly uncomfortable then. He looked away, briefly. "Well you see," he began to say, "a squadron is half our cavalry. I don't think we can spare it." Upon seeing the look on Elsa's face, however, he amended, "What is your need for them, Your Majesty?

"If you don't mind me asking." he added, quickly.

Elsa didn't mind. "I will be travelling south tonight." she said. "Not back to Treleir, but beyond, and I have need for haste."

"Your Majesty?" Vhalnar said, puzzlement overtaking his wrinkled face. "You will not be remaining with the force?"

Elsa nodded. She knew many would not react well towards what she intended to do. But the truth of the matter was that as they were presently, the forces they have assembled will not be able to defend against Nimrienne for long. Once the Grand Duke arrayed the full strength of his army against them, it would only be a matter of time. With her powers, there may be a chance that she would survive the upcoming battles, even win a few of them. But if the enemy was smart, and General Haraldsson certainly believed so, they would attack at different points simultaneously. Four regiments, four targets. Elsa would only be able to defend one. They needed help.

"Where will you be going?" Vhalnar asked.

"To Oriarnis," she said, lowering her voice. "to forgive a king." _And to surrender my freedom, _she thought sullenly. She tried not to let it show, but a frown could not be kept off her face for so long. Vhalnar caught it, looked puzzled for a moment, and then nodded. He understood. He wasn't happy about it. Didn't support it when General Haraldsson brought it up—albeit reluctantly—at their last meeting , but it was their best option if they were to have a chance at winning the war.

"I'll get my best men." he said, moving to mount his horse.

"Thank you, Captain." Elsa whispered, as Vhalnar rode away.

The wind blew and Anna's cloak fluttered, battering Elsa with its clumsy embrace.


	12. Chapter 12

The village had a dark and eerie character to it, as if nature and man had gotten together and schemed to create an amalgam where the constructs Anna found familiar mingled with the chaos of the wilds. The houses, or rather, tent-like things that resembled them, were ordered in a block-like fashion, but did not hold the same homogeneity that she often found in other villages or towns. Some were clearly taller than the others, some were wider, others bore different designs, different structures. Where she expected a clearing—a section of forest that had been cultivated and stripped of its wild qualities, she instead found a place where those same qualities had been accepted and even embraced.

Anna shivered, crossing her arms and tucking her hands underneath her armpits. If they really were still near Arendelle, why on Earth was it so cold? Could Elsa have something to do with it? And what had become of Kristoff? What had happened while she was away? She looked to Aris, feeling panicked. The man was shirtless, but did not seem chilled.

"Something has happened," he said.

Anna's heart skipped a beat.

He hummed, "No, whatever it is, it is still happening." He met her eyes, "I know not what it is, but afterwards we will speak of it. For now, there are other things to be done." He nodded ahead, towards the shadowy figures.

Behind them stood a monolithic tree, similar to few others in seemingly random locations in the village. They ascended higher than those that made up the rest of the forest, with thick roots that were incorporated into the village design as well as even thicker branches that made up a canopy which covered the glade in a perpetual darkness. It was a shadowy haven, a place where the sun could not reach.

Staving off complete darkness was the pale blue glow of the lamps which looked almost like spears protruding from the ground, bathing the village in soft blue hues, just bright enough to illuminate things past the point of being recognizable. Most things.

In some cases, her imagination took over—sometimes not for the best.

The floor was lost mostly to shadow and uncleared, as barefooted she could feel the branches and twigs and leaves in their various states of decomposition. Beneath the layer of duff, she could very faintly feel movement and shuddered to think of what could be its cause.

Why would anyone want to live here?

She turned to the hooded figures, hoping for an explanation.

If it had not been for the light and Aris' gesturing, Anna wondered if she would have seen them. They stood in a half-circle around her and Aris, unmoving, wearing long black cloaks that touched the ground. Had they been waiting all this time? That none of them spoke for a long while reminded her of the meeting Illuventi. It had been a prank, something to garner some kind of reaction. Maybe this was the same?

Perhaps underneath their hoods they were… cat enthusiasts, just as Illuventi was a sweet and playful girl beneath hers? She giggled, a sound which degenerated to a nervous chuckle when she remembered where she was, who she was surrounded by, and realized that no one else seemed to be laughing along with her. That wouldn't make sense anyways. There were no cats here, otherwise she'd be hearing the meows. Perhaps the black cloaks were some kind of new fashion movement? But then they didn't look very fashionable.

The air was still, the trees acting as a windbreak. A wolf howled somewhere, and Anna felt a chill run along her arms.

Aris groaned.

"Really?" he said, rushing forward with his palms pointed up. "This again? Where is Illuventi?"

The figures were silent. Then one raised his or her arm and blue light began to gather from the lamps towards its deep dark palm to form a wisp of something. Smoke? Anna watched curiously, and then apprehensively as the wispy smoke thing grew to about her size. And then it _became her_. A crude representation of her, anyways. Long garments. Bare feet. Un-braided hair. But her nose wasn't that large, nor were her lips that full. The apparition thing walked towards her and, instinctively, Anna walked backwards until her back found the closed door to the underground city. She turned to Aris, wide-eyed, prodding him for some kind of explanation. Or maybe some help?

Aris looked to the hooded figure that had cast the apparition. It looked back at him and shook its head. Aris sighed, met her eyes, and shrugged.

When the ghost-girl reached her, Anna gasped. It was like staring at a reflection. As it approached, minute adjustments were being made to its appearance to make it resemble her more. Anna, despite all the other things she felt about her situation, was rather impressed.

She stepped up, and warily the ghost-girl stepped back. She poked its face.

Her finger ran through its intangible form and then, in a puff of blue smoke, it vanished.

"Oops," Anna said, aloud, turning to face the one from which the girl had originated. "My bad?" As she stared, the light from the lamps began to intensify, and Anna saw the faces beneath the hoods, though some were like Illuventi. Faceless. Like shadows given form.

The man who created her grinned. The other hooded figures turned to them, no small few bringing their hands up to their mouths to suppress laughter. The silence became filled with friendly chatter. It was the second oddest thing Anna had ever seen. The first was a talking snowman, but this came very close.

"Not to take anything from you," the man said in a clear voice, "but that was most definitely not my best work." He pulled back his hood, revealing a mane of brown hair and a worn face. "Also, Aris cheated."

"_Oh please Ben, give her some credit," _said a familiar shrill voice from behind him. Illuventi stepped into view, covered completely in black save for a green leaf shaped brooch.

"DIdn't you hear that first bit?"

"That's not giving her credit, that's just not taking it away," Illuventi said pointedly, crossing her arms, "Not that there was any credit given to begin with."

The man called Ben looked flustered, gesturing to Illuventi and speaking in a voice too low for Anna to hear. Illuventi turned away, huffing.

"Fine!" said Ben.

Ben stomped towards her. She could see now that his eyes were brown, even somewhat familiar, but she was sure they'd never met before. She bit her lip.

"Lady Anna," said Ben, bowing extravagantly. When his head came back up, Anna noticed the tiny patch of hair on his chin. The rest of his face was shaved clean save for that one patch, roughly square shaped, right below his mouth. She definitely was not a fan of it.

Anna cleared her throat and met Ben`s eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. Weird people stared at men's facial hair—wasn't her business what they did with their faces—and she most definitely was not weird. Not too weird, at least.

"Um. Hello." Anna said, trying and failing to sound as classy and important as the honorific he gave her. "Sir—I mean Lord… Um, I mean—"

"Benedikt Westergard," he said, smiling. "but just Ben would be fine."

_Westergard?_ Anna blinked, the name bringing up less than pleasant memories. Was this man related to Hans? She stepped away. That smile. The hair colour, the brown eyes, all of it was so familiar and she now knew why. She remembered a dark room, a fire put out, and a wolf-like sneer standing beyond the doorway. A shut door… Why did it always have to be a shut door?

"My lady?" asked Ben. He looked suddenly unsure of himself, what confidence he held gone, likely because of whatever it was he saw on her face. _Good. No! Not good, I don't want to bring down someone's confidence… I just…_

_Get it together, Anna. This man isn't Hans, look at that beard. _

She took a breath, then heeded her own advice. She looked at the beard. _Hans would look awful wearing that thing. _And that was enough reason for her to picture it on him. She laughed.

"Peachy!" Anna said, grinning.

"Um."

"I'm peachy, I mean." she added. "Not my name, you already know my name—it's Anna—but I'm feeling peachy."

"I see—"

"No, not like that, I'm not really peach but you know how when you bite into one you get like this rush of giddiness because of how good it is?" She paused, waiting for a response.

"Yes?"

"I'm that." She crossed her arms, nodding pleasantly to herself.

"You're a… rush of giddiness?" Ben looked outright confused, which was smidgens better than crestfallen, so she accepted it. Even so, how could he not get the peach thing? She explained it pretty well…Anna began to correct him, but Ben went on before she could get out a word.

"Well, uh, as I was saying," he cleared his throat, "It's a bit of a tradition to frighten the latest joiners of our cause, which you'd think is actually counter productive but—anyways, not the point. I apologize if we frightened you."

"Frightened?" Anna raised a brow. It would take a lot more than a doppelganger to scare her. Now if the doppelganger was a reflection of her after having just woken up in the morning _that_ would be a different story entirely.

"I said 'if'." Ben replied.

"I know, but just for the record," Anna said pointing her thumb at her chest, "not frightened."

"Noted, then." Ben smiled. He pinched the tip of one his fingers, yanking off the black glove and stashing it in one of the inner pockets of his cloak. Anna watched him curiously as he removed the second glove. Black sure seemed a popular colour. Perhaps it really was a fashion thing, or a type of uniform, or—she thought excitedly remembering the earlier light show with the lamps—maybe it had something to do with attracting light? "I will just have to redouble my efforts the next go-around." she caught Ben saying, her mind having drifted away momentarily.

"Well now that I know it's coming, you'd just be wasting your time." she said, distracted. She glanced at the rest of the Vassancti. Many had left but some stayed to watch, albeit appraisingly. She blushed, remembering that she was wearing plain white undergarments. The hemline, thankfully, was low, but she felt exposed. And _cold._

"Not necessarily." said Ben, following her gaze to the rest of the cloaked Vassancti. He nodded to some, waved to others. A small few walked away after he did so. "You'll know it's coming, but not _when_. You'll be waiting and preparing for something that may take years to arrive, in which case I have successfully wasted _your _time without doing a thing."

Anna bit her lip, not sure of what to say to that. She decided "Huh." would be appropriate, thinking the conversation had gone on long enough.

Ben laughed, but did not fire back with a retort. He looked towards Aris, nodding. "Have you spoken with Jeziel yet?"

Aris shook his head. "Not at any length. I wanted to make sure she was fully recovered before we started the tests."

"Ah, well. He is quite excited." Ben turned to walk away, then paused. "In his own way. You know how he gets whenever we find another one."

"All too well, my friend." Aris said, sighing, Anna thought she saw him shudder.

"I don't know what I was thinking, going out like this." he told her, after Ben had gone.

"Why _did_ you go out like that?" Anna asked.

Aris shrugged. "Wasn't expecting the cold."

Anna waited, hoping he would elaborate on what he meant earlier, but Aris said nothing, and Anna got the feeling that it still wasn't the time.

"So I'm not the first one you've found?" she asked, instead, not entirely sure what exactly it was she was referring to.

"Heavens, no," Aris said, walking ahead. Anna followed. "Believe it or not, there are many of us. More than you see here. Not _Vassancti,_ as that is the name of our order, but _animacustos._"

"Then why haven't I seen any?"

"Because you are thinking only of the _verdenformers_, young one. But they are not the only _sjel _that can inhabit our bodies," Aris explained. His words seemed condescending to Anna, but his tone was as respectful as ever. "It is a subject of much debate amongst us, but I feel I am correct in this. There are _sjel _that are extraordinary, like those that shape the world, but there are also _sjel_ that are more mundane or whose manifested powers are not quite so… what is the word… showy, if you may."

"Like…?" Anna prodded.

"Like yours." he said, his expression straight.

Anna wasn't sure if he meant that her _sjel _was mundane or if her powers were less showy. She supposed both could be true, and the Aris didn't seem to mean any offence in calling her inner spirit-thingy boring. He seemed to be a man who told things like they were. Straight-forward. She preferred those kinds of people, really.

They veered around the trunk of a large tree. Anna looked up at it, awed. It was bigger than any tree she had ever seen. How could she have never heard of these, if they were as close to Arendelle as Aris had said. She felt a pang of skepticism. Had Aris lied to her? Desperately, she hoped that wasn't true.

"Here we are." Aris said, stopping once they'd reached the other side of the trunk. There was a small hut there, with smoke billowing out from a hole at the center of its roof. Anna hugged herself, envious of the fire. She followed Aris to the hut's door and he knocked and waited, hands clasped behind his back.

"Enter." said a deep voice.

Aris glanced at her, nodded, and pushed open the door. Inside, Anna took up a spot near the fire. basked in the heat.

"You are Anna, Princess of the Kingdom of Arendelle."

Anna jumped. _Manners, Anna! Manners! _In her haste to get to the heat, she'd completely forgotten about her host, the man who had let them into his… home? She surveyed the place, quickly, before focusing all of her attention to the man sitting crosslegged behind the fire, which evidently was the only thing in the room. He was barefooted, wore only a black shawl and a cloth to hide his more… private parts. His hair was as fine as any she'd seen, though, and he looked young, barely older than herself. Judging purely by his voice she would have guessed that he was ancient. Was there another in the room? She swept her gaze around again.

"Just me here, I'm afraid." The young man said, with a smile and with that same characteristic voice that sounded as if he could etch rivers and raise mountains simply by describing them.

Anna found herself at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing.

"I am Jeziel." he said, uncrossing his legs and standing. As if Anna needed more surprises, Jeziel was shorter than she was. He bowed his head, showing purely golden hair. In that small fraction of time, Anna noted his pointed ears. An elf? No, he can't be. Those didn't exist. What, then, could explain this?

"You're… younger than I thought you'd be." Anna admitted. She wasn't sure where she stood in terms of social standing compared to Jeziel, and so was unsure to proceed. He had a friendly look about him that made Anna want to revert to her normal self, but his clothes—or rather his lack of them—unnerved her, and she feared what she'd say if she let herself loose here.

Jeziel snorted. "I get that often," he said, waving his hand, "I am much much older than I look."

"Are you an elf then?" Anna asked before she could stop herself.

Jeziel raised a brow, and Anna instantly felt stupid. "Sorry!" she started to say, "It just kind of came out."

"Quite alright." he replied, smiling. "Is she ready to begin her tests?"

Anna blinked, pointing to herself questioningly, but Aris' chuckle knocked her out of her stupor. "Yes," he said, laughing, "I believe she is."

"Good!" Jeziel said, plopping back down onto the ground beside the fire. He clapped his hands. "Let's get to it, then!"

Aris nodded, walking over to a chest. Anna flinched. She was certain the rest of the room was empty. Aris flicked up the clasp that held the chest shut and opened it. He began to hum as he rummaged through its contents, taking a few items out and placing them on the floor next to it. A long roll of parchment, and multiple pouches.

"A seer, then?" Jeziel whistled, "Always useful."

Aris nodded, bringing the items to Anna. "I'm sorry if this is a little abrupt," he told her, his voice soft, "but I need you to demonstrate your abilities. It will help us determine exactly what you can do."

Anna nodded hesitantly, at first, and then with more vigour as she realized how useful it would be to know exactly what her limits were, or what exactly her visions showed her. Maybe she could try using her power to find Kristoff again. If he was still—_No! He is! I'd know if he wasn't. _She sucked in a deep breath. _True love doesn't die unannounced, _a voice said inside her head. She froze. _What?_

"First, I need you to look at this map and memorize the general shapes of the landmasses. You will likely fly over them in your vision and it would help us greatly if you were able to identify where it is you are being taken to."

Anna shook her head, forcing herself to focus on Aris' instructions. She asked for him to repeat them, and he nodded and then did so. Then he gave her the maps and she focused on memorizing the shapes. It took some time, but Aris and Jeziel were patient. After she was finished, Aris asked, "Are you ready?" and Anna nodded, taking the leaf he held.

* * *

><p><em>Anna Agdarsdotter, Princess of Arendelle, also known as the Flower of Arendelle and Winter's Champion and a gazillion other things that she'd already begun to lose track of, soared through the skies above an unnamed place.<br>_

_She took a quick survey of the area below her. Grass, more grass, grass on a hill, maybe a flower? Ooh was that a tree?_

_She dove down, picking up speed. The wind blew through her hair, causing it to ripple and fan out and fling about, while clouds misted her face as she darted through them. The ground came rushing up towards her, a sea of green. It felt exhilarating, even that sinking feeling in her stomach. She pulled up at the last second, now speeding parallel to the ground._

_The world appeared blurred beneath her. Faster than anything, even a speeding musket ball, Anna felt immensely powerful in her visionstate. What name would the people give her, if they knew about this? Anna the Red Flash! She liked the sound of that one. Or how about… Anna, Master of the Winds! While not precisely true, it did have a nice ring to it. She'd have to come up with a list to give to Elsa._

_The tree was just up ahead, the only one she'd seen for miles. Maybe that, if anything, could give her a hint as to where she was. The grass certainly did not, as Aris' map had listed many many grasslands. The type of tree she found here might help her narrow it down._

_She clenched her teeth, trying to focus solely on slowing down. Stopping would be too abrupt, she'd rip the soul right out of her body. Assuming she had a body, of course. I mean, she _had_ to have a body, right? She could feel things, touch things, smell, hear, see; all the senses! But then again she could also move through things and fly and… oh boy, what a headache. She shut her eyes and then refocused them, finding the tree just inches away from her face. She smashed right into it._

"Well?" asked a familiar voice.

Anna groaned. She exhaled, escaping her vision as her breath left her mouth. Blinking, it took her some time to get adjusted. Flying—or soaring or levitating, she hadn't decided on what it was just yet—had begun to make her nauseous, especially after the umpteenth time. In fact, she could not even remember how many times she'd 'gone under', as Aris liked to say. Nor how long.

"Did you manage to guess where your vision took you?" Aris' arms were folded, but his expression was light, with a small smidgen of worry.

Anna shook her head, wringing her hands. The leaf she was holding floated to the floor. The sixth one? Or seventh? She'd guessed the other ones correctly, but had failed her latest attempt. "It kind of, um… ended prematurely?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but it's no big deal." she said, shrugging. "I just flew into a tree." She yawned.

"Hm, that's five times now." Aris said, tapping his chin contemplatively. He crossed one of his legs over the other and leaned back in his stool.

"It's not as easy as it looks! I would say having only crashed five times is quite impressive given the uh, difficulty." she crossed her arms, turning her chin sharply away.

"Indeed." Aris nodded. "Five times in six trials is absolutely superb."

Anna grinned, but upon seeing Aris' face, she pouted. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Absolutely not." he replied. Then winked.

"Hey, what was that!" Anna exclaimed, pointing at his eye.

"What was what?" Aris, raised his palms to the ceiling

"You winked at me!" Anna stood, pointing at him. "You _were_ being sarcastic."

"I did not. You are seeing things." he turned his head away.

Anna glared at him.

"Anyways," Aris said, still not meeting her eyes, "would you still like to continue?" Jeziel snored on the ground beside him.

"Actually," Anna shifted, scraping her white garments against the rough tree stump she sat on "Could we maybe, I don't know, take a break. Just for a little while?"

Aris frowned at her, and for the smallest moment Anna had a dreadful feeling that he'd refuse. But then his smile shone from his eyes and he laughed merrily and clapped her on the back.

"Finally!" he said, standing and stretching his arms. He yawned. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hear you say that." he bent down and began to rub his thighs.

Anna smiled at him. Then, her smile fading. "There's actually something I've been meaning to ask you. It might have to do with something you said earlier. Maybe not."

Aris looked at her, then nodded. He sat back down. "You want to know about your sister?"

"And Kristoff." she added. "And what exactly it is you do here."

"I can tell you much about your sister," Aris said, "but not of Kristoff." Upon seeing the distraught look on her face, he continued, "I do however, have reason to believe that his captors are keeping him alive. For now. As for the third thing, that is not for me to tell." he looked down at the motionless Jeziel as he said those last words, who smiled even in his sleep. Aris frowned, and Anna thought she saw a tear, but it could have just been a trick of the light.


	13. Chapter 13

Aris tended to the fire with the long iron rod, exposing the unburnt wood beneath the upper stack to the heat. Anna huddled closer to it, eager to get away from the shadows which carried with them a two part chill. The first made her shiver, as the cold easily bypassed the meager barrier of her dress, while the second brought to her a feeling of loneliness. The fire was a familiar companion, and she felt much better by its side.

Still, she would not mind having a cloak, though that would mean delaying news of Elsa and Kristoff, and that was the last thing she wanted. And what if the hem of it caught on fire? Knowing her luck, that would be exactly what would happen if she wore a cloak now.

"Where to begin?" Aris muttered. Anna glanced at him, catching the man staring distantly into the flames. He sat with his legs crossed in front of the fire. Almost too close, Anna thought, but he did not seemed bothered. "I have pondered that to myself the entirety of the way here." She wondered if his resistance to heat and cold were benefits of his people or something granted to him by his _sjel_. He hasn't explicitly told her he had one _yet,_ but he had to, right?

"I thought about being subtle, about hiding truths, and giving you only what I thought satisfactory. But after what you've been through, you deserve the story in its fullness." He set the poker down beside him, its tip resting against the brass ring surrounding the firepit. On the opposite side, Jeziel continued to snore; softly and pleasantly, words Anna would not have thought suitable for the description of snores, and yet that was what they were. Everything about him just seemed so beautiful, such that Anna felt a lot smaller in his presence. Not the first time she felt that way, but he was dressed practically in rags and yet she found it hard to believe that she could, in her best day and wearing the best of her dresses, shine brighter than he did at that moment.

She returned her attention to Aris only to find him studying her, undoubtedly having caught her staring at the sleeping Jeziel. She blushed, then brushed back a strand of her hair and used the crackling logs as an excuse to stare back at the fire.

Aris sighed, and she heard him shift in his place. "We've known about your sister for a long time." he said, softly. "Ever since she first manifested her powers, we've known. You probably don't remember when that was."

That was true. Anna looked to the ground, feeling that familiar emptiness. Her memories—her real memories, had not yet returned. Pabbie did not say they would, but that did not stop her from hoping—which as the days went by she had begun to think she was doing in vain.

She just could not shake of the feeling of her memories being fake. She was sure parts of them were, but she hoped that she would adjust to those given enough time. But it had already been over a month and it still felt like she had been living a lie her entire life. That she could not say for certain which parts frustrated her greatly.

For one, the strand of white hair she once owned was something she had always believed she had been born with. But Elsa told her that wasn't the case. She said that it was her magic that created the strand years _after_ she had been born. What she believed for a long time, what she'd been telling everyone who asked about it, they were all lies. _Lies, lies, lies!_ That made her sick to her stomach. She could not say anything bad about her parents—how could she?—but she now knew the reason there weren't any portraits of her as an infant. It would expose their lie.

Where had they put all their truths?

Elsa helped her piece some of her memories together, but they were so long ago that even she had forgotten most of the details, and Anna always had the better memory. Or so she thought. _Garlic breath, I can't even say that for certain! I hate this! _She_ needed_ those memories back. One way or another, she'd get them.

"The first time, she was four." Aris said, rubbing the palms of his hands together before holding it out to the fire. Anna tried to keep a calm demeanor as she was pulled from her musings. The walls of the cabin creaked as it endured a gust of wind. "She did it in your parents' bedroom, when nobody was around."

"How do you know this?" Anna asked, discomfitted.

"Good question." Aris said. "The answer is not easy. There are boundaries that have undoubtedly been crossed, but I hope that you will come to understand.

"Jeziel," he continued, "is a seer. Like you, but different."

Anna nodded as Aris paused. He pulled a hand and shook his palm in front of his chest, as if testing the weight of something.

"He does not see the bonds between things." He said, gesturing as he spoke. "You cannot give him a leaf and ask him from which tree it came."

As Anna watched, he picked up one of the fallen leaves from earlier and brandished it before his face before letting it float back down to the ground, "Instead, he is able to sense the presence of other sjel, and glimpse briefly their location. It's a powerful ability, and very dangerous in the wrong hands."

Aris regarded the sleeping Jeziel fondly. "He is the sole reason our order has been able to grow as much as it has." It was a look of passion, but not of desire. Anna recognized it and felt at that moment the extent of Aris' devotion.

"He found many of us, and through those first few, he found the rest. Through Illuventi, he found you."

"So Jeziel _felt_ Elsa using her powers and was … watching her?" Anna said. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. If someone told her that they had been watching _her_ without her knowledge _or _consent, saying that it made her feel uncomfortable would be quite the understatement.

"Yes," Aris said, "In a way I suppose it is like that. But it is not as it sounds. I cannot convey to you the exact feeling of it, as I do not know myself, but when he speaks of his power, he describes the visions as flashes. Captured moments. Like scrolling through a gallery of paintings, you could say."

Anna hummed, trying to imagine the visions as Aris described. Like her own, but frozen in time. She coughed. "How old did you say Elsa was when she first used her powers?" She asked.

"Four." Aris said.

"Do everyones powers start at that age?" Anna wondered aloud.

"Yes," Aris said. Then he held a finger as Anna began to comment. "Most don't notice it. Remember what I said about some _sjel_ being mundane?"

Anna remained silent, though questions continued to rage within her. She nodded, and Aris went on, "The most abundant 'powers' are ambiguous. They can often be mistaken for natural talent. For genius and excellence. Not to take anything away from those that display such traits, though. The nature of most _sjel_ is to amplify. To make better what is already good." Then he added softly, "And also to make worse what is already bad."

"Then why do my powers feel like they've only started working recently, if I've had it for most of my life?" Anna asked. It_ was_ something she'd been curious about. The visions were new to her. Well, almost new. The last time she had something similar that she could remember was when she was five. After that—

"When the dreams—I mean, the visions stopped, that was after the accident."

"Accident?" Aris asked, raising a thin brow.

Anna hummed. After all he'd said, she expected him to know about the accident. "When we were little," she explained, "we were playing in the hall and Elsa used her powers and hit me by accident. Of course, it was mostly my fault for getting a little out of control but—" she tapped the side of her head. "Right here." she said, pressing her finger against the strands of hair. "It used to be white. I kind of miss it, actually."

Aris took a moment to study her. "In part, perhaps." he nodded. "_Sjel_ usually remain dormant until the age of 4. Elsa's powers might have prolonged that."

"Um, I have another question." said Anna, raising her hand.

"Go ahead." Aris replied.

"So while she was locked up in her room," Anna started, "did you… talk to Elsa?"

"Me?" Aris replied, "No, and neither did anyone else as far as I know. We tried to reach out to her through your father, but he made it clear that the topic was forbidden. After the gates were closed indefinitely, there was no way for us to get in."

"But if you were able to talk to her, you could have helped!" Anna protested, clutching the hem of her gown. "If she knew there were others like her, she wouldn't have felt so alone!"

"Anna," Aris said. "You must understand. There is a reason you have not heard of us until now. We reveal ourselves only rarely, and solely to those who we feel we can trust. And there is a good reason for that."

"But Elsa... " Anna sputtered, too emotional to care about how she appeared in this situation, her cheeks glistening in the firelight. "She was so sad, Aris. I couldn't see her behind the closed door, but I could feel it through—through the bond we share!" She blinked rapidly as the tears and heat stung her eyes. "Jeziel… he had to have seen her. How could he and not do a thing? If I had powers like hers, I would—"

"You would kill her, Anna."

Anna flinched. The voice, ancient and deep, was not Aris' but Jeziel's. He was still on the floor, lying on his back, but now his eyes were open and trained upon her. He propped himself up with his elbows and slid around the fire pit to a place opposite of where she sat. The fire flickered between them, its intensity paling in comparison to the blues of Jeziel's eyes, which held in them a bottomless depth and for a moment Anna felt lost.

Then her anger began to flare and the fire and Jeziel's eyes were a mere spark compared to that. "Kill her!?" she raised her voice, clenching her fists. "I would _never_ hurt Elsa."

Jeziel regarded her with a look that seemed almost like pity. No, it was pity. For some reason, that made her even angrier. He spoke, however, before she could say a thing.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to be so blunt." Jeziel said. "I know it wouldn't be your intention, but in the end..." he trailed off. Anna waited, but Jeziel's eyes had become suddenly downcast and it wasn't until many moments later before he finally spoke, in a voice almost drowned out by the whispering winds from beyond the cabin's walls, "In the end it will be the same. The same as it was, and the same as it's been. You will lose your sister, and the world would lose her Sjel."

"But if we can learn to control it—"

Jeziel shook his head, crossing his legs and grabbing his toes. "It's not about control, Anna." he said. "Any power can be controlled. What about the people of Arendelle? You've seen how they've responded the first time Elsa publicly used her powers."

Anna remembered. Elsa. The ballroom. The glove and the moments that followed after. She remembered shock and fear and the sound of another closing door.

Jeziel smiled sadly. "In time, you might show them that they have nothing to fear, that despite the magic you are still the girls that everyone cannot help but love. And your people may accept you."

Their eyes locked, and Anna, though determined not to break away that contact, felt as if she were crumpling under the intensity of his gaze.

"And why would that be a bad thing?" she asked.

"It's not." Jeziel said, expression unwavering. "Acceptance is what we strive for."

"Then what? Why not help Elsa? Why hide here where your powers don't do anyone any good?"

Jeziel frowned a bit. "What about those abroad?" He held his palm up, facing the ceiling. "What about those who only have heard rumors of what you and Elsa can do? How would you convince them that they have nothing to fear?"

"We could—" Anna stumbled with her words.

"People deal with their fears in different ways, Anna." Jeziel said, reaching past Aris—who scooted slightly back—to grab the fire poker. He set to playing with the fire, but Anna could see plainly that it had little time left to burn. "Elsa tried to run from hers." he said as he fiddled with the charred logs. "She kept her power hidden because she worried about what would happen if she let it free."

"I know," Anna said. "I've heard the rumors. That's why I'm going to speak with Elsa and bring up visiting other countries. Olinath in particular."

Aris flinched at the name. He raised an eyebrow to her.

"I have a friend who just came over from there." Anna explained, smiling sheepishly.

"That would not be a good idea." Aris said, his soft eyes growing uncharacteristically hard.

Jeziel shook his head. Whether it was in disagreement with Aris or herself, Anna was unsure. "We are not ready, Anna." He said. "Have you ever wondered why _sjel _no longer dwell in this world? They once had physical forms, and were as common as all the animals you see today and twice as numerous." He set the fire poker down, its tip falling upon the ashes and sending up a puff of grey and a flurry of sparks. "But now they are all gone. Have you ever wondered why?"

"No." Anna admitted, fanning the air as the ashes swirled toward her. "I always thought that they were just fairy tales."

"They were exterminated, Anna." Jeziel said with his ancient and wise voice now tinged with a powerful sadness. Anna heart fell as a heavy weight was pressed upon it. She grimaced. _What is this feeling?_

"Exterminated?" she asked, though part of her didn't want to know. The weight did not left, nor did it weaken. Instead it grew more powerful. Anna opened her mouth to ask _But what?_ but could not muster the strength to do so.

"Exterminated... and enslaved, yes." Jeziel repeated softly. "Never were there words more appropriate for what happened. Nor words more sad."

Aris turned his head away from the fire.

Finally, the weight lifted. Or rather, it retreated. She could still feel it, that deep sorrow, but it no longer paralyzed her. "Who killed the sjel?" Anna asked.

Jeziel closed his eyes, exhaling. A chilly silence permeated the room, powerful enough to choke the heat of the dying flames, which now lacked the heat to keep the three of them warm. Anna held herself more tightly, wondering if she might have asked the wrong question.

"Devora," Jeziel said, opening his eyes. "The one who hates."

The weight returned, and Anna struggled to remain sitting upright. She shut her eyes and clenched her fists. The weight pulled her down. She felt herself falling towards the floor, her face towards the fire. She opened her eyes and held out her arms, but instead of the brass ring her hands found grass. _What?_ She picked herself up off her knees and arms. The weight was gone, but so was everything else. The firepit, Aris, Jeziel, the cabin. Instead she was in a forest, during the day, filled with trees as tall as the few and scattered individuals that she saw when Aris first took her into the village.

Another vision. It had to be. She surveyed her surroundings, but found nothing but trees in every direction._ Wait. What's that?_ Something white flashed in the distance. Anna walked towards it. It flashed again. Feeling an odd urgency, she increased her pace. Whatever it was it was far, as no matter how quickly she moved, it did not seem as if she was gaining any ground.

She froze, wondering if maybe she was just seeing things. Then it flashed again, and with a tinge of annoyance she broke into a full on sprint.

Someone giggled beside her.

Anna shrieked, tripping over a root before falling and rolling across the damp floor. She lifted her ragged head to see whoever it was that ran beside her.

"Sorry!" said an almost-familiar voice, from apparently right in front of her.

"Oops, hold on." said the voice again. It was female.

Within seconds there was a bright flash of white light, and in the once empty space was a floating… Tiny white fairy thing?

Anna blinked.

"Hi!" the fae said. Her long white hair glowed like moonlight and flowed in wavery motions as if she were swimming in a river.

"What— " Anna muttered, pushing herself off the floor with a grunt. "Um. Who are you?"

The fae thing pointed her thumb at her own chest. "I'm…" Then it frowned, hesitating. "I, oh dear…" She descended, floating level with Anna's face, then flitted over to her shoulder and sat down on it. "How curious. I seem to have forgotten."

"Okay..." Anna said. The fae was weightless. If it were not for the glow on her shoulder, she doubted that she would have noticed that it was sitting there.

"I…" the fae girl began, her voice a wisp. She began to cry.

Anna stood. "Hey, are you okay?" She lifted her hand, hesitated, then rested it on the girl's shoulder, careful not to crush her.

She nodded her head, wiping her tears with a pale and thin arm. "Yes, yes." She looked up at Anna, the pupils of her eyes a light grey. "I just came to a shocking revelation."

"What—What revelation?" Anna asked. She'd be lying if she said that speaking to a someone smaller than her palm wasn't even the slightest bit disconcerting.

"I appear to be dead." The girl said. She looked puzzled, and then she pinched her forearm. "Hm. I don't feel dead."

"You don't… look dead either?" Anna added.

The girl shook her head. "But I am. Isn't that the oddest thing?"

"I guess so?" Anna shrugged. The girl yelped as she was hoisted into the air. She fell back down onto Anna's shoulder with an _oof._ "Sorry!" Anna whispered, wincing.

"It's okay." The girl said, scrambling on all fours before she returned to her sitting position.

"How do you know you're dead?" Anna asked. "Does that mean I'm dead too, if we're both here?"

"You're not dead." said the girl. "I am. Because of—what's his name again?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The _alvenkin-looking_ one said it," The fae nodded eagerly. "before you came here."

If she was referring to Jeziel, did that mean Anna was right in thinking he was an elf? Anna felt dizzy. How could that even be true? They were fairy tales and nothing more. All this had to be some kind of sick dream. Everything. Maybe she didn't thaw herself out of the ice after all and this was what the afterlife was like. _She said _alvenkin-looking_, Anna. Stop being silly_, she told herself. _Elsa has _ice powers!_ This is nothing. _It was interesting, though, so she played along. "You mean Devora?" Anna asked. "And where is _here?_"

"Mhm, that's the one." the fae girl said, shaking her fist. "What a stinker, right?"

_That's my word._ Anna thought, still trying to process everything that was happening. "I don't know who he is." She said.

The fae girl laughed. Then she frowned and looked downcast for an instant. "Probably for the best." she mumbled. "This is…" started, gesturing to the forest. "I guess this is where I live. Or, where I'm dead? But I'm awake now so I'm almost… not dead?"

Anna twiddled her thumbs. "That's really confusing."

"Tell me about it." The fae sighed, falling back to lie down. She turned her head to look at Anna, smiling. "You know, I thought I'd never find my bondmate." she said.

"Bondmate?" Anna asked, unfamiliar with a term.

"You don't know what a bondmate is?" The fae said, her expression incredulous. "How don't you know what a bondmate is?"

Anna almost shrugged, but remembered just in time what had happened the last time when did that. Instead she quirked her mouth in a brief frown.

"My bondmate doesn't know what a bondmate is." The fae girl chuckled. "Okay then, I'll humor you." She slapped Anna's shoulder, which felt much like being hit by a feather. "A long time ago," she said, speaking slowly as if lecturing a child, "back when you _meneske_ and us _fae_ weren't on the best of terms, there was an agreement to bring peace between our kinds. A pact.

"Our children and your children, " she continued, "were to form a bond. A special kind of bond that would allow us to share our thoughts and feelings with one another. Through this bond we become bondmates, tied to each other until we die. We share with you our gifts, and you share with us your experiences. Love, joy, good food..." She sighed pleasantly. "Come to think of it, we stripped you bare with that deal." She laughed, and it sounded like part of a song.

"So my powers… they came from you?" Anna asked.

"Mhm." the fae smiled.

"Wait, you were you the voice from earlier!"

The fae jumped off her shoulder and floated in front of Anna's face, her translucent winds shining like silver. "What voice?"

"You said, 'true love doesn't die unannounced'." Anna recalled.

"Sounds like me on a bad day." she giggled. "My memories are a little hazy, I'm sorry. But at least I have some of them!" She bit her lip. "I don't… even remember what it was like before you came here, truthfully. Not completely, anyways."

"I know what that feels like." Anna said, giving her a nod.

"But if you're here. That means I can be _there." _The fae said with a gasp, looking delighted.

Anna crossed her legs. "There?" she asked.

The fae nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, yes." She rubbed her hands together. "Oh, isn't this just so exciting?"

"Yeah…" Anna said weakly, clutching her head. The world started to spin. "Exciting…" Before she blacked out, she heard the girl say _Talk to you soon!_

And then she gasped. She opened her eyes and before her were the flickering embers of an almost dead fire, a brass ring surrounding the pit, and around her were the walls of the cabin and Jeziel and Aris, who both watched her curiously.

Aris gestured to Jeziel and words passed between them that Anna could not hear. Jeziel nodded, and Aris whispered something more, gesturing towards the door as he did so. Jeziel sighed, and said the only word Anna could hear. "Go." And Aris departed.

The room was silent save for the sparks that leapt from the dying fire. Jeziel turned towards the door as it closed, and Anna turned to Jeziel, trying to make sense of what had just occurred. After a few seconds of eerie motionless quiet, Jeziel closed his eyes, and Anna wondered if he had fallen asleep, for he remained that way—crosslegged with his hand resting on his lap—for the better part of a minute before opening his eyes again, bringing those impressive blues back into the world and somehow making the room brighter by doing so.

"You look like you just had a vision." Jeziel said, with a smile.

Anna nodded.

"Did you see him?" he asked. "Your _sjel?_"

"Actually, it's a her." Anna said, smiling weakly. "She was… interesting."

"Hm. Must've been the mention of Devora again." Jeziel muttered. "How odd that is." He clapped his hands and grinned at her. "Reminded you a lot like yourself, didn't she?"

Anna thought about it. "Actually, yeah." She crossed her arms. Was that what it felt like to talk to herself? She met Jeziel's eyes. "Do you have one?"

Jeziel nodded, though his smile faltered and again the room was met with a silence that endured for moments longer than the last.

"You must be curious about your sister." Jeziel said.

Anna blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. But Elsa's status was more important to her than the vision. "Yes, more than. And Kristoff." she said. "Are they okay?"

"Kristoff is currently being held in a dungeon. More than that I cannot say, but he lives. Though I doubt 'okay' would be an acceptable term to describe his predicament."

Anna gulped. He's alive, at least. She'll take that.

"Elsa... is healthy," Jeziel said in a manner that made Anna expectant of a conjunction. She waited, and then turned and they met each other's eyes. Jeziel sighed. ""But," he continued, "she has been dealing with a lot in the past couple of weeks."

"A lot as in…?" Anna said, holding her fingers together, "Like she's been getting a lot of orders for ice? Like she's had to refuse a lot more suitors? Like she's been dealing with a lot more occurrences of squid soup?"

"It's more complicated than that." Jeziel shook his head gravely, and Anna's spirit fell. "She's been fighting a war."

"A war?" Anna gasped, spreading her arms. "What? How? With whom? Why?"

"The cause of it," said Jeziel, "or the official cause, is the death of Grand Duchess Liliana Ferron of Nimrienne. And given that, the implication is war _with _the Duchy of Nimrienne."

"What does that have to do with Elsa?" Anna asked, wracking her brain. The name was completely unfamiliar to her. She knew about Nimrienne, but Elsa spoke of it only regarding matters like their cancelled trade agreement.

"They are saying that Elsa _killed_ the Grand Duchess."

Anna's brain refused to process that information. "Absolutely not!" she said. "Elsa wouldn't do that. She would never hurt _anyone!_"

"Not on purpose, perhaps—"

"No!" Anna said, firmly. "She wouldn't. Your exact words were 'it's being said'. What proof do they have?"

"The message from Nimrienne claimed the sudden snowstorm claimed the wife of the Grand Duke while she was out hawking in the woods." Jeziel said, enunciating his words slowly.

"They found her at the mouth of a cave with her body huddled in the cloak she brought with her, which was not enough to stave off the cold."

"No…" Anna whispered, cupping her hand over her mouth. "That can't be."

"I'm sorry." Jeziel said.

Anna wiped her cheeks with the collar of her dress. "I… I need to see her." she said, after a moment's silence. "Where is Sven, and my things? I have to go to her now. She must be worried sick, and being alone and not having anyone to talk to… and fighting a _war?_" She stood up and began to walk to the door. "I need to get back to Arendelle, there must be some kind of mistake. If it happened, then— then…No, _why _does there have to be war?"

"Anna, wait." Jeziel said, and Anna stopped, her hand ready to push on the worn wood of the door. She looked back at him and met his eyes. "You can't reach her now. Even with Sven."

_So Sven was alright then… _She breathed a sigh of relief. "But why can't I reach her? With Sven, we could probably get to Arendelle by tomorrow."

"She's not in Arendelle." Jeziel replied.

"Where is she, then?"

"On the road to Oriarnis." he said.

"What?" She removed her hand from the door. "Why on Earth would she go _there?_ Hans tried to kill her!"

"I know not, but she's too far and is riding on horseback." Jeziel said. "And there's another matter we need to discuss."

"What's that?" Anna walked towards him, her mind still set on following Elsa.

"It's the matter of your alleged death." Jeziel said.

"My _what?_" Anna froze, and slowly backpedalled towards the door.

"I said alleged, not eventual." Jeziel smiled, faintly. "When you fell, it was Illuventi that retrieved you. However, she left behind your cloak, which at that time was covered in your blood due to your injury."

Anna stopped backpedalling and listened intently, not liking at all where this was going.

"Somehow," Jeziel continued, "Nimrienne came into possession of your cloak and the Duke used it as an opportunity to claim revenge against Arendelle by, well, claiming to have claimed your life."

"_What?_"

"That was Ben's exact reaction." Jeziel said. "The response from Arendelle was war."

Anna's heart skipped a beat. _We started the war? Oh Elsa…_

"She thinks I'm dead, doesn't she?" Anna said, slumping onto her knees. She didn't have to look at Jeziel to know that he nodded. A tear fell from her eye, splashing onto the old floor and leaving a small pool that slowly drained into one of the cracks between separate boards. It was only that single tear that was shed. She wouldn't let any others fall. She needed to be strong for what was going to come next. Before she left to find Kristoff, she promised herself that she wouldn't cry.

"So then," Anna began, lifting her head. "I just need to reveal myself. Right? If I show Elsa that I'm alive, then the war will end?"

But Jeziel shook his head. "I'm afraid it has already progressed too far. Elsa won a victory earlier today. Her powers decimated an entire army.

"But even so, even if that did not happen," he clenched his fist, and trained those eyes of his to the dying flame, which—to Anna's unbelieving eyes—flared into an inferno so high that it nearly singed the roof before dying back down to a reasonable height, running seemingly of some other fuel of its own. "There is another hand in this. One that wants the war. One that wants Elsa to be seen as a monster so that the fear of her and anyone like her will again be instilled into the hearts of man. If you want to help Elsa, Anna, the best way you can do that is by helping us stop the one who wants her dead."

The name came to her lips unbidden. "Devora?" Anna asked, and Jeziel nodded, his eyes never leaving the flames. "Who is he, Jeziel?"

This time he turned to her. "Devora broke the pact." His eyes were glassy, and his pronunciation of words stiff. "Bondmating is supposed to be consensual. Bondmates are supposed to be mindful of each other." Anna saw the tears slowly forming, the sight of them bringing back the weight upon her heart.

He continued. "Devora overpowered the will of his bondmate and used the binding ritual to capture _sjel _and enslave them within the same host. When the _sjel _communitiesrealized what he was doing, they withdrew, but Devora hunted them down _everywhere_."

Anna covered her mouth with her hand.

"With nowhere to hide, they looked to mankind. In the bonding ritual, the _sjel _surrender their ethereal forms to reside in our bodies. So they tried bonding with humans without going through the necessary checks that were required for the ritual. It was partly successful, however, as a result, many of your kind became bound with sjel for whom they were unsuitable and so their forms deteriorated. In a way, it cursed both of our kinds." He shut his eyes, and a tear fell. "Illuventi is an example of this, along with others that you may have seen."

"What happens when a _sjel's_ host dies?" Anna, whispered, shaken by Jeziel's words.

"In a way, they die." Jeziel said. "They lose their memories and are cast out into the world to wander aimlessly in a form of near non-existence. In some rare cases, they find a bondmate—usually during the time of birth—and reside within them. It is possible to reawaken a dead _sjel_ with a bonding ritual, but for that you need both a host and the _sjel's name._ Have you heard of witches and sorcerers?" he asked.

Anna nodded.

"They cast their spells using the rituals for binding and evicting _sjel_. The binding to use the power, and eviction to avoid the deteriorating effects."

Anna gripped her arms. "That sounds horrible."

"We need you to help us find him, Anna." Jeziel said.

Anna nodded. "And after that?"

Jeziel glared at the fire. "After that, we defeat him, and then we bring back the _sjel_ into the world and end this madness that he has wrought."


	14. Chapter 14

The road from Lavangen, as the fjord was called, twisted and turned through the great trees of the Ewyth. Elsa idled at its edge, basking briefly at the breaths it exhaled. If she went through now, there wouldn't be any turning back and she didn't want to make that decision just yet.

She closed her eyes, letting the winds blow through her hair and Anna's cloak, then looked back at Lavangen for perhaps the last time. She stared first at the waters and then at the surrounding field. Hundreds still were laid upon it, waiting to be buried in the mass grave dug nearby.

It seemed wrong to Elsa that she should be leaving as soon as she was, but with time being as valuable as it had become she knew there would be no better opportunity. That, and she figured many of her own people would feel relief in her going. Save them though she did, she knew the fear her powers struck in those who witnessed it. It was not a beautiful thing. Not the fear, nor the powers. Not anymore.

She whispered into Caspian's ear and he started to walk, slowly at first before picking up speed as they entered the shade. She rubbed the side of his neck with a gentle hand as the tail of her cloak billowed in the gaining wind. Behind her came the drum of hooves; her escort, numbering a hundred strong.

She raised her hand to block the sun and sighed relief when she saw that the sky was still clear.

"Gorm?" Elsa called, glancing back briefly. She spotted, with relief, the green uniforms of her Evergreen Guard riding just a few ranks behind her.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Gorm called, his normally gruff voice softened by the blowing wind.

"Ride with me, Gorm." Elsa replied.

She faced forward, hands low in her saddle, watching the road ahead. Within moments, Gorm's brown horse aligned with hers and she gave its rider an amiable smile.

"Have you been through here before, Gorm?" Elsa asked.

Gorm broke eye contact, squinting at the trees. He crouched forward in his seat, streamlining his robust body. His uniform fit on him a tad too snugly, but he cut quite the figure nonetheless, the bulges of muscle showing beneath his sleeves. Elsa often wondered how her guards found the time to maintain their physiques when she hardly ever saw them leave their posts to do much of anything except frolick and sleep.

"Can't say I have." he said, glancing at her. "Not this path at least."

For the barest moment, Elsa thought she saw worry before his face returned to his resting passive state. She smiled at the unasked question.

"Would you be able to recognize any landmarks we may pass by?" Elsa said.

"Well, there's the Alta." Gorm grimaced. "And Wandering Oaken's, if we swing around the North Mountain."

"But aside from that," he frowned. "there's just trees, and I can't say I'm much of a forester." He shrugged, motioning down towards his sheathed blade, strapped to the front of his saddle along beside his carbine.

Elsa smiled at him nonetheless. "I see." she said, looking at the weapons. The pommel of his rapier glinted as only one that had been polished considerably could, while hilt was inlaid with gold, lines of the material criss-crossing up the hilt like the petals of a crocus.

"Well if you see anything amiss," she said, "or find that we are going in a direction completely opposite to our destination, just let me know." She looked away to stare down the road. _Because I kind of might not know what I'm doing._

Gorm bowed his head gracefully. "Yes, Your Majesty." he replied wistfully. "It is my pleasure to serve, in any capacity."

Elsa spurred Caspian to pick up his pace on the path. "Let's ride, then!"

After a few hours, Arendelle came into view just around the bend, the castle on the water partially visible as the forest gave way to a rockier road of many slopes. After this, the road once again flattened and curved before it branched out in three different directions. The left sloped downwards, into the fjord and into Arendelle. The right led deeper into a thicker part of the forest, to Karne, while the middle would take them to the Dryroad, which crossed nearly the full length of the country before meeting its end at Oriarnis.

She urged Caspian onto the middle road and her accompanying horsemen followed.

As they passed by the trees—the pines and oaks and aspens, Elsa felt the familiar too-strong pull of home. It was the smell, she decided. Pine trees let off a powerful scent. She had first noticed it during her first excursion outside of the village gates. It wasn't unpleasant, nor was it sweet. If she would be pressed to give a word to describe it, she would have chosen 'curious', for the smell of it beckoned her close for reasons she could not explain.

If she wasn't being accompanied by a hundred horsemen she might have succumbed to its subtle beckoning, but she brought them partly for that reason. The middle road repulsed her and she wanted nothing to do with Hans and his people, but for her own people, that was the road she needed to be on and so it must be on that road that she travelled along with those brave few that travelled with her.

As soon as they had left Arendelle behind, Caspian stood still. Elsa blinked, confused as to why. She kicked her feet a bit, but still the horse remained immobile. She tried a second time, and a third, but still the horse would not go.

Her company stopped behind her, watching expectantly, and Elsa began to feel nervous under the weight of those many eyes. She brought a hand down to pat Caspian's side and took several slow deep breaths. After a minute she opened them and took up the reins in her left hand and placed that hand on his wither. With her right hand, just as she had practiced with him many times before, she grabbed the buckle and excess rein and started the motion to flip it left.

Caspian burst into a full gallop. Elsa yelped, her knuckles somehow managing to become whiter than they normally were as she struggled to stay in her saddle. "Wait!" she shouted. Behind her, she heard the voices of her men followed by the frantic thumping of hooves. Elsa didn't dare to look back as it took the greater part of her efforts and concentration to not allow her arms to flail which would obviously result in quite a devastating—and embarrassing—end for the Snow Queen of Arendelle. She held onto dear life by the reins as they ran into the forest, speeding past the trees.

_No!_ She bent towards Caspian's neck, managing it just barely through pulling on his hairs. She began to whisper to him, in the same voice with which she spoke with him just the evening before, but the sound of of his hooves and his erratic breathing drowned out her words. "Caspian!" she shouted, pulling herself close to him. "Caspian…" she repeated more softly, her mouth just inches away from the horse's ear.

Amazingly, her father's horse began to slow and within moments, he had stopped. Elsa let the arms she had draped around him fall tiredly to the side. Only after being still for a minute did she notice that he was shaking and that his eyes had gone wide. Elsa could see by the restlessness of his feet that he wanted nothing more than to continue his mad gallop through the forest. Why? What caused him to act in such a way?

She looked behind them. The trees surrounding them had tall and thick trunks with branches that splayed outwards to create a near light-impenetrable canopy. She could see her men approaching just beyond the shadowy cover, their horses much less eager than Caspian about approaching. So she approached them instead.

It took some effort getting Caspian to comply, but whatever danger he perceived must have passed, for eventually he returned to his normal self, even nibbling on some of the grass that they passed. Back in the company of her men, she noted the relief that was painted on their faces. Behind them stretched more forest, though the canopy was not quite so dense. She saw nothing amiss anywhere, except for the great concern that appeared to be directed towards her. Her arms moved instinctively around herself, and like before, all she wanted was to shrink. All the worry and the concern, for what? What did she do to earn them?

She couldn't bear to tell them that a small part of her had wanted to let the reins go.

"Your Majesty…?"

Elsa turned, spinning her horse around as she tugged on the reins. She expected Gorm though her ears had heard Piet. The wiry man smiled at her, sitting straight up in his saddle. His eyes reflected worry, but they flickered from her eyes to other places, which she found unnerving but not wholly unusual.

"I'm alright." Elsa said, breaking away her gaze as swiftly as it had been caught. She swept it instead across the hussars, noting the sweat that glistened upon their foreheads, and the stiffness in their postures. The column had broken, split through the center by a trail of ice as wide as the road they had been on. Elsa stared at it, stunned. She didn't at all remember using her powers.

She gritted her teeth, but as she did so, the reins she held in her cold white hands glossed over and froze. Familiar panic began to creep up into her chest, though she fought it down as best as she could. _Love, _she thought. _Love is the key._ She closed her eyes, trying to remember how she felt that one day long ago, when Anna had slipped a slip of paper under her door. It was a drawing of the two of them, playing among the trees. She kept that image steady, then opened her eyes, and then she was calm. She exhaled, letting free a breath long held captive, and pulled Caspian back onto the road.

Over the next few hours, Elsa led her company through the Ewyth, its paths burned into her memory through days of painstaking memorization.

With as little experience as she had with riding horses, she thought she was doing quite fine, trodding along at a pace she thought wasn't too embarrassing. Her thighs hurt tremendously, but after a month of scattered training she hadn't fallen off yet which—according to the stories she'd been told—was quite uncommon with her family. Her father had taken a full week before he could even properly mount a horse while her mother, despite being more naturally gifted, had taken twice as long to ride just as well.

So it was with no small amount of pride that Elsa commanded her horse, the pure white thoroughbred named Caspian, twisting his reins any which way the shape of the road required her to.

It was remarkable and also quite an oddity that she could overcome that inherent ineptitude given that other than her powers, she couldn't remember herself being better than Anna at anything. Better at being boring maybe, but that was it. Enter Anna's room and you'd find a collection of things so varied you wouldn't be able to categorize them. Elsa's was full of the kinds of books people like to horde to decorate their bookshelves but never actually read and documents that she couldn't imagine anyone ever wanting to read willingly.

It was surprising, however, that when the time came for them to learn how to ride, Anna was less than keen about it than she was. Anna didn't practice as much, or at least not whenever Elsa was around. As such, she didn't know how much Anna had progressed. However, the last time she saw her ride, she had mounted Sven and lead him through the gates faster than she could say a thing. That surprised her. Before that, Anna couldn't stay on a horse for more than fifteen minutes without being nearly thrown off the saddle.

The wind blew and Elsa felt a chill.

Elsa stiffened. Caspian continued his trot unaware of the paralysis that gripped his rider. It always came after remembering, particularly those memories that she tried to keep locked away. She needed some memories to control her powers. But whenever she allowed her thoughts to wander, to think beyond just reminiscing, that was when it would start, creeping in and stealing away her spirits just as they were poised to soar. It was a horrible feeling, a curse worse than her powers, malevolent if it were a conscious thing. A curse that always made sure she had something to fear.

It felt like a punishment. A reparation she had to pay for all that she had done. It was never her intention to hurt the Grand Duchess, nor was it her intention to endanger the lives of thousands of people when she brought winter upon a country basking in summer warmth. But she had done those things and, intended or not, she knew one day she'd have to pay. The cost, however, was greater than anything she could have ever imagined.

If not for the guilt of abandoning her people weighing heavily upon her heart, she might have given up already. Instead, she decided to wait. Bear the heartbreak and the pain. Find some new way to mend. Even with her resolve, it was not an easy thing waiting for that feeling to subside.

She lifted a hand to touch her tender cheeks. There were no tears this time, thankfully, and the facade she maintained held throughout the short ordeal. It was over, but it was never more than a memory away. For this reason, she had to keep her thoughts on a leash, lest they stray towards less than pleasant memories. And so she returned to her riding, albeit with much less excited fervor than she had before.

Elsa sighed and sucked in a long deep breath and refocused on the road. It stretched for miles and miles, such that it would not be until late in the evening before they could find shelter and food. Her knotted hair billowed, picked up by the wind. She spared another glance for the sky. Mostly clear as before, but clouds were beginning to show.

"This isn't right." She said, crossing her arms. Another hour's riding left her tired and frustrated. She bent down and opened the pouch strapped near her leg on the saddle, rummaging inside of it before pulling out and unrolling a map.

"We should be on the Dryroad by now." she said, running her finger along a thin dark line that ran from a small circular formation labelled _Lavangen_ through a crude representation of the Ewyth's trees to a line that ran parallel to the map's vertical axis. She pointed at the edge of the forest, mere inches away from the dryroad.

"This is where we should be." Elsa said.

"May I see that, Your Majesty?"

Elsa looked up from the creased parchment, seeing a bearded man with flaming red hair trotting towards her on his horse. He wore silver knots hanging off his right shoulder, indicating his captaincy.

Elsa held out the parchment. "Of course, Captain Tharaldsson." she said, and he reached out to take it.

He gave it a hard scrutinizing look before lowering it to his lap. Shading his eyes, he turned both left and right, wheeling his horse around clockwise and counter before pursing his lips. He handed the map back, humming softly as he did so.

"Any deductions, Captain?" Elsa asked.

Tharaldsson folded his arms and looked down the road. "I'm afraid not, Your Majesty." he said, lifting a hand to cup his chin. "I haven't been down this road before. All I can deduce is that we are lost."

Behind them, Elsa heard the men snickering.

"This is not funny. Not now." Elsa said, shooting them an icy glare. She squeezed the bridge of her nose with two fingers and closed her eyes. "Okay, let's just…" She opened the map again, tracing her the line from Lavangen. It branched out in four different directions a quarter of the way through the forest. Two of those four provided the opportunity to get on the Dryroad. The other two led to named inns. The one she had charted would have them on the dryroad by meant that their deviation must have put them on one of the longer roads. She pressed her fingers to her lips. They could still get to the Dryroad provided they were on the right trail. They'd know if Griselhearth came into view.

"Going back the way we came would take too long." Elsa said to Tharaldsson. He nodded, grizzled beard twisting along with the motion. "So let's just follow this path. If we hit an inn, we'll set up camp nearby and go back tomorrow. Same deal if we end up at Griselhearth, except we'll have a roof over our heads."

A few of the men whooped.

Elsa rubbed at her sore thighs. She noticed some of the men watching her and let some magic flow out of her fingertips as she frowned at them. She rode on ahead, glad that she had lengthened the hem of her dress.

It was another few hours of ache-abundant riding before they arrived outside Griselhearth, one of the towns just within the Arendellian borders. It was smaller than Arendelle, but not by much. The mayor and his wife had attended her coronation and extended an offer for her to visit. They seemed to her to be kind enough to provide shelter for her and her men. And like Arendelle, their town shone brightly against the increasing darkness. Elsa smiled a tired smile, thinking about the rule her father had instituted during his time; that Arendelle be made to shine like a beacon in the night.

She approached the gates slowly, her legs aching beyond any pain she'd ever felt in that area. Her arms drooped, glistening with sweat that had begun to cool and she wanted nothing more than to find a soft bed and lay down upon it. As she approached, she heard one of the men curse before the whole column began to mutter. They rushed forward, overtaking her and stopped only once she had been fully surrounded.

"What's the meaning of this?" Elsa said tiredly, blinking. When no reply came, she followed the direction of their open-mouthed gazes.

The light she had glimpsed earlier did not come from lamps like she had thought. The light emanated from the center and shone like an inferno. If it had been the lamps, that light would be evenly distributed. Ordered. This light was chaos, jumping wildly and pronouncing its threat with crackles of breaking wood that could be heard even this far away.

"Go! Hurry!" Elsa shouted, though Captain Tharaldsson had already begun to convey orders to his men. He was pointing at the gate and then the road behind them. "Captain!" Elsa called. Tharaldsson turned towards her and rode up on his horse. He tilted his head forward. "Your Majesty, it's—"

"We have to help them." Elsa interrupted him. "We have to go now." She watched the light pulsating, drawing her in. These were her people, too. Tharaldsson frowned. He pointed at the gates. They were unmanned and broken, as if hammered in by a very large and heavy object. Elsa breathed sharply.

"I don't like this." he said. "If the gates were broken here, then whoever broke them came from this direction. How could we not have seen them in that case? They must be a great number, no?"

Elsa nodded. She hadn't thought about what he'd said beforehand, but everything about this unnerved her. "Have your men take great care, then, Captain." Elsa said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She urged Caspian forward, but the horse wouldn't budge. Like before, he was wide-eyed and shaking. She gulped, then dismounted. She raised a hand when Tharaldsson began to protest. "I defeated an army. I don't think I have to remind you." She stepped gingerly towards the gates. "Whatever lies behind these gates, I have dealt with far worse."

Pointing, she sent a bolt of light streaming at the gate. The magic struck and the gate was blasted open. The town opened up for her and her men, the flame shining at the end of the road. The town seemed to empty and too quiet for one that looked to be going up in flames. Elsa headed towards the fire, though despite what she said, she feared what she might find.


End file.
